Shards of Ice
by GoddessOfTechnology
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles, rated from K to T. No romance. (Discontinued)
1. Of Arctic Foxes (part 1)

**A/N:**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians in any shape or form.**

* * *

Jack did not know everything.

Sure, he had learned some pretty awesome things over the years, and seen some pretty awesome things as well. But he himself would be the first to admit that he was still clueless about a good deal of stuff.

One thing he was absolutely, one-hundred-percent sure about, though, was that he was not supposed to have a freaking _tail._

For a little while, he stood frozen, blue eyes wide and mouth agape in shock.

He had a tail.

He had a _tail_.

 _Moon, he had a freaking tail!_

 _And the damn thing was FLUFFY, too!_

With a jolt, he jerked out of his little reverie and examined himself, furry chest heaving as he grew more and more panicked with every second. Mentally, he formed a small analysis of his current situation.

He was standing on four legs.

He had fur.

He had a muzzle.

He had paws.

He could feel the cold.

 _And he had a freaking tail!_

And it was about this time that the former winter spirit decided to behave in a perfectly reasonable manner.

He proceeded to scream.

Loudly.

So loudly, in fact, that when a certain overgrown rabbit appeared on the scene, said rabbit found himself on the receiving end of one of the worst headaches in recorded history.

* * *

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOORTH!"

Nicholas St. North jumped out of his chair as a gray-haired Pooka ran into the Globe Room. Fearing the worst, he drew his sabers as Sandy brought out his sand whips. Tooth covered her mouth with her hands, concern filling her eyes.

"Bunny, what's wrong?! Is Sweet Tooth okay?! Is he hurt?"

"WORSE!" Panting, the Guardian of Hope lifted the white furry object he was holding up to her face. "LOOK!"

Tooth looked.

She blinked.

She blinked again.

"E. Aster Bunnymund...why are you holding an arctic fox in front of my face?"

"It's not jus' any fox, sheila! It's FROSTBITE!"

Tooth looked at the slightly maniacal-looking Pooka, then at the fox, and then back at Bunny, before calmly moving back a step. "Um, Bunny? That's a fox."

"So?"

"...Jack is not a fox."

"He is now!"

She moved back another step. "Bunny...Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm FINE! Frostbite ISN'T!"

Now completely convinced that Bunny had lost his mind, Tooth moved back a few more feet. Still, she couldn't help but be struck by how calm the fox was about this. Normally, a wild animal would be clawing furiously to get free, but this fox seemed almost _bored._

She bit her lip. "Bunny, Jack isn't a fox."

"Yes he is!"

"NO, he's NOT. I don't know what sort of joke this is, Aster, but it isn't funny! Now, I suggest you lay off this foolish pleasantry before I-"

The fox's patience finally snapped. With a huff, it twisted around in the Pooka's grasp, before whipping its tail around and smacking Tooth in the face with it. With a startled shriek, Tooth stumbled back, holding her hand to her face.

It was when she found out that her hand had been frozen to her face, that she realized they had a problem.

* * *

 **A/N: Arg, fanfiction was being a prat while I was editing. Hopefully, it works now.**

 **Anyway, I take requests! No romance, OCs, or anything above a T, though.**


	2. Chrystallized (part 1)

**A/N:**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Rise of the Guardians in any shape or form. I do, however, own my OC (Jokul Frosti, a.k.a. General Winter), so please don't steal him. Or else.**

 **And now...CRYSTALLIZED!**

* * *

For the nth time in his three hundred year long life, Jack Frost, Spirit of Winter, was knocked out of a tree.

With a small "oof", he sat up, brushing snow out of his hair as he examined the surrounding trees. Still on his guard, he picked up his fallen staff, before summoning the wind and floating out of the snowbank he had fallen into.

"Who's there?"

Nothing.

"Show yourself!"

A moment's silence, before a harsh, mocking laugh, like thin ice breaking, rent the silence. A shiver traveled unbidden up Jack's spine, as the familiar sound brought dozens of painful memories to the surface. Memories of icy knives cutting through pale flesh, of swords clashing violently, of crouching on his hands and knees covered in blood, of being forced to fight until he was practically _begging_ the Moon to just let him fall unconscious…

But the most vivid memory was of the children. Children, frozen to death, lying on the snowy ground on Easter Sunday, 1968.

And that laugh belonged to the one who was responsible.

With a growl, the winter child turned to face the direction the laugh had come from. Hiding his fear and anger behind an emotionless mask, he hissed. "What the _hell_ are you doing here, Jokul?"

A figure stepped out of the trees, his steps graceful, his gray translucent armor clanking slightly with every step. His thin lips twisted into a mockery of Jack's own mischievous smile, one thin white eyebrow raised. "My dear Jack, is this how you greet your friend and mentor? I'm positively hurt."

" _Former_ mentor." Jack seethed.

Jokul sighed, rolling his eyes in an accurate imitation of Jack's "exasperated face". His messy white hair, so like Jack's own, ruffled in the breeze. " _Former_ mentor, as you say. Still, I expected a slightly... _warmer_ welcome."

Jack's left eyebrow quirked upwards. "Coming from a winter spirit such as yourself, that seems like a slightly ironic statement."

The other spirit hissed in irritation. " _You_ are a slightly ironic statement."

"...That was a terrible comeback."

An icy dagger formed in Jokul's hand, as a guttural growl of anger rumbled through his throat. "Do not trifle with me, _boy_ , lest you wish to find out just how immortal you _really_ are."

"Oh dear, a crazy old winter spirit in rusty armor is threatening me with a toothpick. I'm terrified."

"You should be."

Before Jack could reply, a blast of electric-gray winter magic hit him in the chest, throwing him into the air before slamming him down on the surface of his lake. Blue eyes widened as an audible crack sliced the air, and a small spiderweb of cracks appeared in the ice underneath him.

"Goodbye, Jackie."

Another gray bolt slammed into him, and the ice finally gave away underneath him, plunging him into ice-cold water. His heart began to race as he started to panic, and he desperately tried to swim to the surface. Slowly but surely, he began to inch his way upwards to the hole in the ice.

And then, he saw the hole fill again.

With an anguished scream that was muffled by the water, he desperately began to pound his fist against the sheet of ice holding him underwater. But with each blow, he only managed to freeze the icy barrier further. Pulses of electric-blue energy emanated from his fist, thickening the ice and reducing his chances of salvation.

And finally, as blackness began to creep in at the corners of his vision, as his lungs began to burn, as he gradually realized that he was never, _ever_ leaving…

He closed his eyes, and he simply.

Let.

Go.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Well.**

 **That was depressing.**

 **Anyway, I know my writing isn't the best, but I do take requests if you're interested! Just no romance (of any kind), no OCs, and nothing rated above a T. :D**

 **Toodles!**


	3. An Old, Frail, Stick

**A/N:**

 **Response to Guest Reviews:**

 ** _Guest (Ch.1):_ Jack is indeed a sassy fox xD But let's face it: if I had been randomly turned into a fox, I'd be upset as well xD (although in this story, it's not _that_ randomly...hehehe)**

 ** _sparklehannah (Ch.2):_ Thank you! I do try my hardest :D If you would like to place a request, I'll accept it! Just no romance, OCs, or anything above a T, please :3**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians in any shape or form.**

" _Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick"_ -Unknown

* * *

 _Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick!_

The ridiculous little nursery rhyme, passed on through the ages, repeated itself like some sort of mantra inside his head.

With a graceful twirl, he spun through the air, narrowly avoiding the dozens of sharp icicles that were thrown at him.

 _Jack be nimble; Jack be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

A few yards from him, the white-haired old man glared at him furiously, gray eyes filled with malevolence. With a snarl, he shot an icy arrow at the youth.

Jack ducked.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

A second too late. The arrow buried itself in his shoulder. With a hiss of pain, the Spirit of Winter broke off the shaft of the arrow and frosted over the remaining wound, effectively stopping the bleeding.

He almost didn't notice the bolt of white energy speeding towards him.

 _Jack be nimble Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick!_

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it, and banked sharply away from it. As the blast missed him by a few inches, he himself fired a bolt, this time a brilliant blue.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

The blot hit its mark, freezing Old Man Winter's left arm to his chest.

The rogue winter spirit roared in anger, the wind whipping his long white hair in the storm, as he threw a makeshift dagger at the young white-haired imp.

 _Jack be nimble Jack be quick Jack jump over the candlestick!_

A duck.

Another bolt.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

Another duck, more sluggish.

A bolt.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

An escape, barely made. A slight overbalance. A momentary loss of control.

A merciless bolt.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

A cry.

Blood.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

A fall. A small body hitting the ground, accompanied by the sound of bones breaking.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

A staff, lying on the ground, a few feet away from the Spirit of Winter.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

Long, thin fingers, wrinkled with age, picking up an object they had no right to hold.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

Blue eyes watching helplessly, as the staff was lifted high.

 _Jack, be nimble; Jack, be quick; Jack, jump over the candlestick!_

A snap.

 _Jack be nimble_

A scream.

 _Jack be quick_

Blood.

 _For Jack's life…_

Death.

 _...is tied…_

Blue eyes fading.

 _To an old…_

Irreparably.

 _Frail…_

Broken.

 _ **Stick.**_

* * *

 **A/N:**

 _ **Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, for your life is tied to an old frail stick.**_

 **This is what happened when you combine sugar, angsty stories, and a bored authoress who has an obsession with Jack Frost.**

 **…**

 **Does anyone have a life for sale? I need one.**

 **Anyway, to clarify, Jackie here is fighting a spirit called Old Man Winter (who is an insane old coot obsessed with bringing about eternal winter). And Jack gets hit, falls to the ground, breaks a few bones, gets his staff broken by Old Man Winter, and then dies.**

 **The End.**

 **Also, to clarify, Jokul Frosti (a.k.a General Winter), Old Man Winter, and Jack are the only winter spirits there are. Each of them has a different color assigned to their powers: Jack is blue (obviously), Jokul is gray, and Old Man Winter is white. So if you're having trouble figuring out who fired which bolt, just look at the colors!**

 **P.S. I take requests...rules are on the first and second chapters :D  
**


	4. Rain Armor

**A/N:**

 **Heeeello, everybody! And how are y'all doing?  
**

 **Up next we have a requested one-shot from the lovely guest reviewer _sparklehannah,_ who wanted something with Jack and rain. Not sure if this is what (s)he was thinking of, but I hope (s)he likes it!**

 **I disclaim ownership of RotG in any shape or form.**

 **EDIT 5/16/17: Now betaread by my new beta, WinterCrystal1009! Thank you, girl, you're the best! :3**

* * *

Bunnymund couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief as the sleigh left the sparsely populated town of Burgess, Pennsylvania. At last, it was over. Pitch was defeated, Sandy was back, the children were safe, and they had a new member in their ranks (said member was also fast asleep, which Bunny found rather adorable—not that he'd ever admit it). It was a good day.

His pleasant mood only lasted up until it started to rain. Or rather, _pour._

Within seconds, the floor of the sleigh was covered in at least an inch of water. Sandy heroically attempted to shield them from the rain using a dreamsand umbrella, but was forced to admit defeat once the umbrella began to disintegrate into damp, dull lumps. With collective sighs of exasperation, the Guardians resigned themselves to a very wet, very cold evening.

At least, _most_ of them did. The newbie, of course, decided to jerk awake with a yelp before rapidly turning into an ice statue.

Figures.

* * *

With a startled cry of "Frostbite!', Bunny darted towards Jack, only to see that Jack's arm was rapidly being swallowed by ice. "Wha' the hell is happening ta ya, ya bloody showpony?!"

There was a moment of silence, during which Jack stared blankly at his iced arm, before the teen gave a slightly dazed reply, "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"' _Nothin_ '?! Jack, yer turnin' into a bloody ice statue!"

Jack was still gazing at his arm, remaining painfully conscious of Tooth's concerned gasp, Sandy's frantic sand-images, and North's murmured cursing. Rolling his eyes, the winter child flexed his fingers, before abruptly standing and throwing his arms up to the sky.

The effect was immediate. With sharp cracking sounds, the thin layer of ice blanketing him broke and fell off, hundreds of little shards dropping to the floor of the sleigh. Wearily, as if this had happened countless times before, Jack began to brush off the shards that persistently stayed on. Hazarding a glance at his fellow Guardians, he saw that they looked utterly clueless. Great, they still didn't get what happened.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, before downright deadpanning. "Rain freezes when it touches me."

He watched as the Guardians absorbed this information, the four looking momentarily confused before their faces brightened with understanding. For a moment, Jack was seized with an irrational fear that the Guardian might reject him for being "unnatural"; that they would abandon him; that they would throw him out like they had done only a few hours before…

And then Bunny laughed.

He _laughed_.

Jack stared stupidly at the laughing Guardian, which only made said Guardian laugh harder, before asking. "What's so funny?"

"Ya—ya have rain armor-! _Rain armor_!" was all the Spirit of Easter could get out before being overtaken with more hysterical giggles.

Jack shared a bewildered look with the other Guardians, before letting out a breath and sitting back down.

He would never understand his new companions, he was sure of that.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Short one-shot is short.  
**

 **Sorry 'bout that. I tried.**


	5. Perchance To Dream

**A/N:**

 **Oh my goodness, you guys rock! Thank you so much for your kind words, and for continuing to review and encourage me :D Your reviews keep me writing! Thanks a ton, everyone!** **::does the cha-cha::**

 **Anyway, this one's for WinterCrystal1009, who requested a one-shot where the Guardians find out Jack doesn't sleep much and they try to knock him out. I'm not sure if this is what she was thinking of, but I hope she likes it!**

 **Also, guest reviewer _Someone_! I'm afraid I might not be able to do the Toddler Jack request (because I simply suck at those kinds of stories), but I'll definitely do the "Jack becomes a human" one! However, I do have a small question...you made two requests for human-Jack. What is the difference between these two requests? Anything specific in mind?**

 **Guest reviewer s _parklehannah_ , I'm glad you liked your request! If you get any more ideas, I'll be happy to fill them out for you :D You know the rules!**

 **Disclaimer : Come on guys...If I owned "Rise of the Guardians", it would have turned out a terrible movie. I'd be a worse director than Ed Wood.**

 _"To sleep, perchance to dream- ay, there's the rub."_ - _Hamlet_ , Shakespeare, Act III Scene i

 **EDIT 5/16/17 : Now betaread by my fabulous new beta! Thank you so much, WinterCrystal1009!**

* * *

Contrary to what most people believed, being the Spirit of Winter was actually a very time-consuming job.

Especially during, you know, _winter_. Or summer, because of the Southern hemisphere. Either way, it was a hectic time of the year, what with having to make snow, hail, sleet, and all things winter-related.

But that wasn't the hardest part.

Take the other winter spirits, for example. You had Jokul, who wasn't so bad (then again, he didn't really do all that much, just hid in Russia and sulked, but hey, beggars can't be choosers). But then you had Old Man Winter who, quite frankly, was downright insane.

As in, the "I want to cover the Earth in eternal snow and become the Winter King" kind of insane.

Every year, twice a year, during one of the winters that occurred around the globe, Old Man Winter tried to take over the world. And every year, twice a year, Jack Frost took his staff in hand, cursed the crazy old coots of the spirit world, and went out and fought Old Man Winter.

Like I said, _time-consuming_.

So it wasn't all that surprising that whenever it was winter somewhere, Jack missed out on a bit of his beauty rest. I mean, hey, c'mon, lots of work to do. There would be blizzards to make, lakes to freeze, crazy old dudes to fight, and only three months. So who could blame him if, twice a year, he went into "sleep only when desperately needed" mode?

Besides, it wasn't like it mattered all that much, right?

Wrong.

* * *

Sandy was concerned.

Now, being a generally easy-going fellow, it wasn't often that Sandy was worried. But when he was, you could bet your buttons that it was for a very, _very_ good reason.

The reason, in this case, was this:

Jack Frost hadn't slept.

For fifteen days.

This was a problem.

With a determined, albeit silent, huff, Sandy summoned a cloud of dreamsand and flew off to North's workshop.

Within half an hour, the Northern Lights illuminated the sky.

* * *

Jack Frost was cursing in Icelandic.

Jack Frost only cursed in Icelandic when he was upset.

Therefore, Jack Frost must be upset.

If someone who knew bits of the language heard the winter spirit, they would have deciphered some fairly colorful words, sprinkled with comments of " _Why now?_ ", " _We had a meeting only last week!_ ", and " _I have work to do, dammit!_ ".

Needless to say, the winter spirit who flew into the Globe Room that day (via window) was not a happy winter spirit.

"You guys better have a good explanation for this, because I have a lot of work to—what?"

The unhappy winter spirit was now a very bewildered and slightly amused winter spirit. For now that he took a closer look, he realized that the Guardians were...very prepared. For something. He didn't know quite what.

Tooth was cracking her knuckles, a determined expression on her face; Bunny was experimentally twirling his boomerangs, eying Jack with a calculating stare; North was welding a long...stick thing (was that a garden rake?); and Sandy was holding a very large baseball bat made out of dreamsand.

Okay.

Still mildly confused, Jack allowed the wind to drift him down towards the Big Four. "Um, guys, are you...okay? Is something wrong?"

North pinned Jack with a penetrating stare. "Sandy says you have not been sleeping."

"...So?"

"You have not slept for two weeks."

"I really don't see the problem."

North advanced a few steps. "You need rest, Jack. Winter duties is not excuse."

Jack shrugged. "I have a lot of work this time of year. Don't worry about me, I'll hit the snooze button once winter's over."

"No. You will rest _now_."

"Really, guys? Seriously, you're all overreacting. I'm fine!"

Judging by the looks on their faces, none of the Guardians believed him. North's eyes narrowed. "Sandy, knock him out!"

Jack's eyes widened before he ducked, narrowly avoiding the ball of dreamsand, which instead hit a passing elf. Rolling his eyes, Jack leapt into the wind's clutches. "Oh, so this is how you want to play? Fine!" He grinned mischievously. "Come and catch me!"

Laughing, Jack flew into the deeper parts of the workshop. The Guardians shared a glance.

"Let's go," declared Tooth.

They went.

After all, it couldn't be that hard to catch a sleep-deprived winter spirit, right?

Wrong.

* * *

Three hours later, Sandy was seriously considering giving up. So far, his balls of dreamsand had flown over Jack, under Jack, around Jack, and to the side of Jack, but never actually _at_ Jack.

Instead, he had hit a grand total of seven yetis, twenty-three elves, various pieces of furniture, and his fellow Guardians. Tooth's snoozing form was draped uncomfortably over a couple of rafters near the ceiling, Bunny was lying on the rug near the fireplace, and North had somehow ended up inside an open wardrobe, garden rake held tightly in his hands. Since there was obviously nobody else who could be of any help, Sandy was stuck with the task of capturing the reluctant winter teen.

Said spirit was whizzing around the workshop at a hundred miles per hour, expertly dodging toys, yetis, elves, and dreamsand alike.

You see the difficulty.

However, if Sandy was one thing, it was persistent. He would get Jack to sleep, if it took him all night.

* * *

Eventually, after four more hours, plenty of frustration, a few blasts of ice, and some name-calling, Sandy finally managed to knock Jack out. Silently sighing in relief, Sandy gently picked up Jack with a cloud of dreamsand and dumped the sleeping winter child onto the sofa, sprinkling some more sand on Jack to make sure that he did, indeed, stay asleep.

Once done, Sandy turned to the task of waking up his fellow Guardians. They did have jobs to do, especially Tooth and North. After shaking them rigorously, North, Bunny, and Tooth were finally all more-or-less awake and blinking drowsily.

Tooth was the first to recover, darting down from her place in the rafters to get a closer look at the sleeping winter spirit. Bunny came around soon after, stretching and yawning before hopping to the side of the sofa to see if Jack was really asleep.

"Isn't he adorable?" cooed Tooth, smiling fondly at Jack, "Just look at his teeth!"

Bunny chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't say adorable, sheila, but he's definitely less annoyin' this way. Gave us quite a chase, didn't he?"

"Da. What I don't understand," said North, finally somewhat coherent, "is why he didn't want to sleep. Poor _mal'chik_ must have been very tired, da?"

Bunny shrugged. "Beats me, mate. At least he's sleepin' now, right?"

Tooth smiled. "At least."

Of course, that was when the door to the workshop burst open.

With various sounds of surprise, the four turned to the door, only to find themselves facing the grumpy, deranged old winter spirit that just came marching in.

"Who the hell are ya, mate?!"

"I am Old Man Winter, and I shall cover the world in eternal snow! Cower before me, Guardians, for your precious winter brat shall not save you this time!"

* * *

And this was why kids didn't get Christmas presents that year.

This was also why the Guardians resolved to never, _ever_ again attempt to mess with Jack's sleep cycle during the winter months, no matter how tired he looked. Because when all was said and done, one wreaked workshop filled with icicles was enough.

Jack did not sleep during the winter season.

Point proven.

* * *

 **A/N: ...Thoughts?**


	6. Find A Penny

**A/N:**

 **So, guys, before anything else, I just want you to know that I'm really not happy with this chapter.**

 **I did try. Honest. The last few days were spent juggling ideas and writing scraps, only to delete them afterwards. And in the end, after several days of keeping y'all hanging, I finally said "to hell with it" and wrote...this.**

 **So, let's all have a round of applause for guest reviewer _Someone_ , who wanted something with Jack being turned into a human. Unfortunately, this focuses more on how he turns into a human, and less on his life as a human. But hopefully, _Someone_ won't kill me. Maybe just maim me a bit.**

 **Hope I didn't butcher your baby too much, _Someone_...**

 **Disclaimer: I disclaim.**

 **EDIT 5/16/17:** **Now betaread by WinterCrystal1009!  
**

* * *

 _Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck. See a penny, let it lay,_ _bad luck you will have all day -_ Unknown

* * *

Morticia Persephone, Goddess of the Underworld, was bored to all hell.

Bored, bored, bored, bored, _bored_.

Sure, she was the Goddess of the Underworld, but just because she was a freaking immortal Goddess didn't mean that her job wasn't monotonous. Cuz let's face it people, Death was dull. Like, really dull. There was absolutely nothing more dull than Death (unless you counted insurance salesmen. Those were definitely way more dull).

The female spirit slumped in her throne, twisting a lock of raven-black hair around one stone-gray finger as she tried (and failed) to find something remotely interesting about her day. Mortals died, as usual. Her Reaper Underlings were incompetent, as usual. She was bored, as usual.

Ah. A Guardian died today. That was not so usual.

She followed her new train of thought eagerly. The Guardian who died—which one was it again? The rabbit, wasn't it? Oooh, he was killed via poison.

She wondered idly what effect the overgrown rabbit's death would have on the world. There would be no more Easter, of course (not that she could complain, she hated Easter—one of her most interesting victims had been stolen back from her that day), and Hope would cease to exist (again, she couldn't complain. Her Underlings were always moaning about how people refused to die because of Hope, which inevitably turned into a tremendous delay and hassle for all involved). But most of all, she wondered how the other Guardians would react.

The bird-woman would be in hysterics, of course. The sandy one would mourn quietly. The Cossack would probably try to tear down her castle and skewer her with his swords (as if the rabbit's death was somehow _her_ fault, which it _wasn't_ ).

The winter spirit? A little more difficult to guess. Would he try to fight her, or would he bargain with her? Would he be in a hazy, broken shock, unable to think properly? Would he be angry? Would he blame himself? Who knew?

"My Lady?"

The monotone voice of one of her Underlings roused her from her reverie. With a small sigh, she replied. "Yes, Josephine? What is it now?"

The Underling shuffled nervously. "A winter spirit, milady. He wants to speak to you about the death of the Easter rabbit."

One of Morticia's black eyebrows raised an eighth of an inch. "He does, does he? Well, show him in, dear. You know the drill."

The Underling bowed respectfully. "Yes, milady."

As the Underling left the room, Morticia gave a small, almost imperceptible, smile.

She was wondering how this winter guy was going to react, wasn't she?

Well, looks like she was about to find out.

* * *

As the white-haired teenage spirit walked into the room, Morticia was mildly surprised by how calm the boy seemed. Normally, spirits who had lost a loved one were nearly frantic with rage and sorrow, yet this particular one looked almost nonchalant.

With silent steps, the spirit took a few steps towards her before stopping and inclining his head slightly. "Lady Persephone."

She nodded. "Jack Frost."

For a moment, the winter spirit appeared at a loss for words as he twisted his staff between his fingers. "...I came to you about Bunny."

"Ah, that was the rabbit's name, wasn't it? And what do you want with Bunny?"

"I want you to bring him back."

What a moron. Morticia barely restrained the urge to roll her eyes. "Sorry sweetheart, no can do. The rabbit's mine now. So shove off."

"B-but you're the Goddess of the Underworld! Spirit of Death! Can't you bring him back?"

This time Morticia really did roll her eyes. "Again, Jackie, no. Haven't you heard of a little thing called balance? It was his time to die. If I bring him back, I'll disrupt the balance of life and death, and the world will end. And my life may be boring as hell, yes, but that doesn't mean that I want to kill myself over a rabbit."

"What if I gave my life in exchange for his?"

So. Bargaining, then. "Sorry Jackie, not enough. Bunny's been around for a good two thousand years. You're only three hundred years old. Nowhere close."

"...My powers?"

Ah. Now that was interesting. "Hmm, still a little short kiddo. But, you're getting close. Anything else you wanna offer?"

"My...immortality."

Oooh, this guy really was serious. "Well...I'm not really the type to make deals, sweetie, but I think I'll make an exception for you. Just 'cause you seem like a real nice guy and all. So...your life, your powers, and your immortality, in exchange for one measly rabbit. Sounds good. When do you want me to send one of my Underlings to pick you up?"

"...What?"

"To pick you up, hon. After you turn human, when do you want to die? Latest I could do would be around five years from now."

"So I'll die when I'm nineteen?"

"Unless you want an earlier appointment, sure. Nineteen would be fabulous."

Jack nodded. "Alright then. Nineteen."

"Excellent, you have yourself a deal. Now, go away before I change my mind."

"But Bunny—"

"You'll get him back by midnight," Morticia interrupted.

"And my powers and immortality? When will I lose them?"

"Also by midnight. And your life in exactly five years from now. Now shoo." The goddess waved her hands for Jack to leave.

She watched as the winter spirit left before slumping in her throne and resigning herself to a few more centuries of pure and abject boredom.

* * *

It was midnight when it happened.

Jack was brooding by his lake when he suddenly felt his power being drained from him.

With a small cry of pain, the winter spirit curled in on himself, eyes closed tightly as his powers were forcefully torn away from him. He barely noticed that the frost covering his hoodie melted away, that his pale skin returned to its original healthy-looking pink, that his hair faded to brown.

When it was all finally over, the former winter spirit opened one brown eye.

It had happened.

He was human.

* * *

Miles away, in the infirmary of North's workshop, an overgrown rabbit stirred.

A minute passed. Then, his ear twitched.

Finally, with a gasp, he began to breathe again. The steady beating of his heart started anew as life returned to the gray Pooka.

A few more moments flew by, during which the Pooka tried to slow down his breathing.

One emerald-green eye fluttered open wearily.

"Jackie…?"

* * *

 _Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck. See a penny, let it lay,_ _bad luck you will have all day_.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **...I am quite frankly ashamed of myself.**

 **Kill me now. I command you.**

 **P.S. As for the rhyme, it's supposed to be symbolic...the deal between Jack and Morticia is the "penny". So if Jack accepted the deal, he would get "good luck" (i.e. Bunny back), but if he didn't accept it, he'd have "bad luck" (i.e. Bunny would stay dead).**

 **At least, that's how it is in my head...**


	7. Bring Your Guardians To Work Day I

**A/N:**

 **Hey everyone! How are y'all doing? Good? Excellent.**

 **Now, firstly: This chapter is for WinterCrystal1009, who asked (read: demanded multiple times) something where Jack shows the Guardians just how hard his job is. Before you all panic, this is the first part of a two-parter. I decided to divide it in two since it was becoming way too long :/ Hope you like, WinterCrystal1009!**

 **Secondly: For those who were wanting more of the "Find A Penny" arc, I have good news! A second part is on its way! I hope you'll all like it!**

 **Thirdly: For those who wanted more of the Fox arc...I have not-so-good news. Unfortunately, my muse is being very uncooperative in that regard, so I may or may not update it.**

 **Fourthly: Due to lack of reader interest and of inspiration, I will not be continuing the Crystallize arc. Unless you all start begging me or bribing me with cookies or something. In which case I might change my mind. (I like chocolate-chip, in case y'all are wondering)**

 **Fifthly: Guest reviewer _The Alpha_ , your request has been accepted and is now in the works! :)  
**

 **Sixthly: Thank you for your kind words, guest reviewer _sparklehannah_. I hope you like this chapter!**

 **And lastly: Guest reviewer _Someone_ , I have both good news and bad news. Good news is that I most likely will continue the "Find A Penny" arc. Bad news is that I have no inspiration for the Jackson Overland request. However, I do have a trade to propose...would you be willing to trade the Overland Request for a ROTG Human AU where the Guardians are all dance hosts on a cruise liner? (we get to see Jack dancing...)**

 **Now, enjoy the chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: Oh no. Don't you dare try to claim that I own ROTG. Because if you do, then I will release my army of frost bunnies, who will stifle you mercilessly with their cuteness. FEAR THE FROST BUNNIEZZZ**

 **EDIT 5/17/17:** **Now betaread by WinterCrystal1009!**

* * *

Bunny was irritated.

Now, being a generally bad-tempered fellow, this was fairly normal. Still, due to our natural curiosity, we cannot help but wonder what had the rabbit's ears in a knot.

The reason was this:

Today was a Guardian meeting, and Jack Frost was late. Again.

Oh sure, he knew it was the dead of winter, and Jack was probably swamped with work, but Jack was a Guardian as well as the Spirit of Winter, and he had to do both of his jobs.

One of the things that came with being a Guardian, was that you had to come to the Guardian meetings.

 **On time.**

Huffing, the overgrown rabbit began to pace around the Globe Room. "Where is that bloody showpony?!"

North, on the other hand, was unconcerned. "Bunny, you know Jack is busy during winter."

"Yes, North, but he ain't jus' a winter spirit now. He's a Guardian as well, and when yer a Guardian, ya have ta be on time ta the meetings! It's a rule!"

"Is not strict rule."

"But it's still a rule! Honestly, that bloody drongo needs ta have more respect fer his elders. He needs _discipline_ , North."

North's eyes narrowed. "Bunny, you remember what happened last time we interfered with Jack's work, da?"

Bunny paled visibly (which was saying something, seeing as his gray fur generally hid these sorts of things) as everyone gave a collective shudder. Everyone remembered the events of last year when Sandy had forcefully set Jack to sleep during winter. It had taken weeks to repair the workshop and get rid of all the icicles.

"I know, North, but-"

"No, Bunny. We wait for Jack to come in own time."

Bunny grumbled, but sat back down.

Approximately five minutes later, he received a large, cold, fluffy snowball to the back of the head.

* * *

Girlishly shrieking, the overgrown rabbit leapt out of his chair and turned to face the direction where the snowball came from.

The source, once identified, had the form of a white-haired teenager, perched on the windowsill, a crooked staff in his hand and a grin on his face. With an unnatural (and frankly rather creepy) grace, the teen laughed merrily before jumping lightly from the window onto the floor. "Scared ya, Kangaroo?"

The Kangaroo in question pinned the teen with a glare. "Immature brat," he grumbled under his breath.

The teen simply chuckled. "Love you too, 'Roo. So, what did I miss?"

The rabbit bristled slightly before replying, irritation and impatience accenting every word, "Oh, nothin', seein' as we were all stuck waiting for ya."

The teen either didn't notice or chose to ignore the Pooka's tone. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Had a pretty crazy day. Canada needed some snowstorms and there's a cold front coming over Europe that I need to take care of, not to mention the Yuki-Onnas are acting up again and Old Man Winter's being a megalomanic jerk. And now Aurelia is insisting that it's still autumn in England, when I know for a fact that the place is due for a blizzard _tomorrow_. _Honestly_. The tricks that that Autumn spirit tries to pull-"

Bunnymund rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We get that yer too irresponsible ta attend ta yer Guardian duties. No need ta explain."

The smile on Jack's face faltered briefly but came back in full strength only a moment later. "Well, looks like someone's got his ears in a twist. Having a bad day, Cottontail?"

"Oh, it was alright, until a certain Guardian decided to back out of his duties."

This time, Jack's smile really had fallen. "Hey, like I said before, it's a busy time of the year for me. Chill out, 'Roo."

"That's no reason ta ignore your duties."

"Says the rabbit who holes himself up in his warren for months painting eggs. Don't try to deny it, Bun-Buns, you miss out on just as many meetings as I do when Easter comes around."

"Not true."

"It's totally true, thumper."

"Stop callin' me that."

"Thumper! Thumper, thumper, thumper, thump—hey!"

With a shriek of laughter, the Guardian of Fun flew up into the air as Bunny made a lunge for him. "Can't catch me, Cottontail!"

"Oh, you don't want to race a rabbit, mate," muttered Bunny grimly as he began to chase after Jack.

All in all, it was an eventful half-hour.

* * *

Once some semblance of order was finally returned to the room (mostly by Tooth, as the normally docile fairy could be quite scary when angry), the five Guardians settled down to do reports. Those were the same as usual: North was energetically preparing for Christmas (despite the fact that it was only January), Bunnymund was designing eggs, Sandy was spreading dreams, and Tooth was collecting teeth. You know, as usual.

Though, when Jack's turn came around, and he began to speak in his usual nonchalant manner about snow, winter, fun, and believers (the last of which apparently kept showing up in the strangest places), the other Guardians couldn't help but notice his harried and exhausted expression.

Heck, he even had dark circles under his eyes, for Moon's sake.

As North pondered this, he was struck with a brilliant (or stupid, whichever way you want to look at it) idea. "I do not believe we have ever seen you work, Jack."

The Guardian of Fun, predictably, bristled. "I'll have you know that I do _plenty_ of work, North-"

"You do not understand me. What I am saying is that we have never seen the way you work. For example, we have never seen you spread winter, da?"

The reactions around the table were varied as they all realized exactly where this conversation was going. Tooth froze (no pun intended) before beginning to mutter about schedules, snow, and teeth; Bunny gave North a horror-struck look and shook his head furiously; while Sandy simply shrugged as he downed another glass of eggnog.

The youngest of the Guardians gave North an incredulous look. "...Why would you care?"

North shrugged. "Might be interesting."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "It's...not really that interesting. Just me spreading snow. Nothing special."

North pretended not to hear Bunny's sigh of relief. "Perhaps will be to us."

Jack was about to protest again when he noticed Bunny, who was giving everyone around the table piteous looks of despair and damnation. Remembering Bunny's hatred of cold, Jack was suddenly struck with an idea. An evil idea. A very, very evil idea.

Bunny shrank as he saw the dangerous glint in Jack's eyes that usually marked the birth of a new and potentially-destructive idea.

Thus, with the faintest inkling of a smirk, the Guardian of Fun replied. "Perhaps."

It was the sound of Bunny's own death sentence.

* * *

 **A/N: Yeah, I suck at writing North's lines. But I'm trying. Please don't kill me.**

 **...Thoughts?**

 **P.S. Aurelia is the Head Seasonal Spirit of Autumn, in case you're wondering.**


	8. Memory Pool

**A/N:**

 **Hello everyone! Missed me?  
**

 **Now, this one is for the lovely guest reviewer sparklehannah, who requested something where Jamie takes Jack to a pool party. Not sure if this is what she was thinking of, but I hope she likes!**

 **Guest Review Replies:**

 _ **Someone:**_ **::gingerly takes the chocolate-chip cookie and views it with veneration:: Bargain...accepted.** **::evil grin::** _ **  
**_

 ** _Dragon Heart_ : Dogs, you say? ::chuckles evilly as I sick my pack of frost puppies on you::**

 ** _sparklehannah_ : Thank you! :D**

 **Disclaimer: Still think that I own ROTG...? THINK AGAIN! ::releases the frost bunnies and puppies::**

* * *

Jack was never going to teach someone how to do the puppy eyes ever again.

 **Ever.**

Because it absolutely had to be the puppy eyes. There was no way that it had anything to do with the fact that the owner of said puppy eyes happened to be his first believer. No way. Jack did not show favoritism. Not even to the first human to see him in three hundred years.

But no matter what had caused his (albeit reluctant) agreement, the fact, plain and simple, was that Jack was now faced with his biggest and most crippling fear.

A swimming pool.

To clarify, it was not the swimming pool specifically that was his fear, but rather the water. Or, to be more specific, the idea of swimming in it.

Now, Jack and water did not have a particularly good relationship. The two generally avoided each other, both apparently having a mutual attitude of "leave me alone and I won't freeze/drown you". So asking Jack to swim was like asking a dolphin to spend the weekend in the Sahara: in other words, a very bad idea.

But, as we all know, Jamie (and his puppy eyes) can make Jack do anything. Especially if it was Jamie's birthday.

Hence why Jack was now faced with the dilemma of swimming.

At least it was an outdoor pool...

* * *

Jamie was having a splashing (pun intended) time.

I mean, hey, c'mon, he was having a pool party with his best friends (including Jack)! And it was his birthday! How cool was that?

Speaking of cool…

Jamie scanned the pool intently, looking for a certain winter spirit. It was only a few moments before he found said spirit, sitting by the edge of the pool and glaring at the water as if he was trying to freeze it with his mind.

For the Guardian of Fun, Jack definitely didn't look as if he was having fun.

Curiosity and a little concern now aroused in the Bennett child, he swam towards the winter spirit, who didn't look up as he approached.

"...Jack?"

Jack snapped out of his little reverie and raised his head to face Jamie. For a moment, he didn't seem to register Jamie's presence, but soon his blue eyes lost their distant appearance. The Guardian of Fun gave a barely-visible shudder before plastering on a brilliant (and obviously fake) smile. "Hey Jamie! You having fun?"

Jamie grinned. "Totally! Pool parties are always awesome."

Jack nodded. "...I believe you."

Jamie hesitated briefly. On the one hand, he wanted Jack to have fun (and pool parties were the funnest things, after snow days, sledding, and snowball fights), but on the other hand, he didn't want to upset Jack. His friend obviously had a problem of some kind, and he didn't want to put unnecessary pressure on him.

But Jamie's mother had always said that it was good to talk to someone if you were upset, right? And Jack was obviously a bit upset.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Jamie bit his lip before asking. "Aren't you coming in?"

The effect on Jack was immediate. The winter child stiffened as if he had been electrocuted, and his brittle smile instantly slipped from his face. A slightly vacant look came into his cerulean eyes as he stared into the distance, evidently reliving some painful memory.

Jamie felt like kicking himself.

"...Jack? Are you okay?"

Jack replied robotically, his eyes not loosing their vacant look. "...I...Let's just say that I...I don't really like swimming all that much."

"Oh."

Unsure of how to proceed, Jamie simply clung to the edge of the pool, gnawing on his lower lip and trying to find something to say.

The pair stayed like this for a few minutes, before being interrupted by a grim-looking Cupcake, who didn't even glance at Jack as she gave the news:

Sophie was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Jamie was shocked and worried, as any older brother would be upon hearing that his sister had disappeared. Hence why his first question was probably not the most intelligent. "Did you _look_?"

Cupcake was affronted. "Of course we _looked,_ Jamie. She isn't anywhere."

Thoughts and worries whirled through Jamie's mind: of his sister drowning, or being kidnapped, or hurt, or _dead_ and what was he going to do, he needed to find her, ohmygodwhatifshehadbeentakenbyPitchorsomething-

"Jamie, _calm down._ "

Jack's somewhat-harsh command was enough to draw Jamie out of his mini panic-attack, and the boy gradually became aware of Jack and Cupcake giving him concerned glances. He watched as Cupcake and Jack shared a look, before Jack rose to his feet determinedly. "I'll look for her."

Jamie simply nodded.

* * *

There was a problem.

Finding Sophie was not the problem. It had taken Jack precisely three minutes of careful observation and flying to find Sophie.

The problem was where Sophie was. Namely, cowering at the top of a diving board. Apparently, the toddler had managed to climb the ladder to the top, but had afterward been unable to clamber back down.

This posed a slight difficulty. As tempted as Jack was to simply snatch Sophie from her perch and fly her down to safety, there were adults at the pool, and questions would doubtlessly be asked if someone saw a small girl drifting gently down to the ground from a height.

Which left Jack with only one option.

Praying to whoever might be listening that Sophie would _not_ panic and fall, Jack attempted to be as calm as he could. "Sophie, I need you to listen to me very carefully"

The small girl stared at him through the curtain of messy blond hair concealing her face. Jack swallowed nervously before continuing, "Now, I'm going to help you climb back down, alright? But I need you to listen to me and follow my instructions _exactly_. Understand?"

The blonde nodded hesitantly.

Inhaling through his teeth, Jack gently took Sophie's hand and started guiding her carefully down the ladder of the diving board, periodically giving her advice. Slowly but surely, the child and the winter spirit made their way down, until finally Sophie was safely on the ground. As soon as the toddler's feet were on solid ground, Sophie fled towards her older brother for comfort and reassurance.

Now, had things gone slightly differently, none of the events following would have happened. Had Jack not decided to land near the edge of the pool, had he not overbalanced, had the edge not been slippery, history would have progressed differently. But as it is, Jack _did_ land near the edge, he _did_ overbalance, and the edge _was_ slippery. And as a result, his worst nightmare came to life:

In a highly undignified tangle of limbs, Jack slipped and fell into the deep end of the pool.

* * *

After thirty seconds of desperate flailing, a rescue from Claude and Cupcake, a panic attack, and an explanation to the Burgess Seven that he couldn't actually swim, Jack was soaring through the air to his home by the lake.

Still a little shaken by his recent ordeal, Jack came to a decision:

He was never going to teach someone how to do the puppy eyes ever again.

* * *

(He later broke this promise when he taught Sophie so he could play a prank on Bunny. He soon regretted that decision.)


	9. Pick It Up

**A/N:**

 **HI GUYS! How are y'all doing?**

 **So, here we finally have the next part of the Penny arc! This was a beast to write (I rewrote it at least three times) but hopefully it's fine now.**

 **Hope you like, guest reviewer _Someone_!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RotG...::sobs::**

* * *

Burgess, Pennsylvania, was, for all intents and purposes, a fairly strange town.

Because let's face it: Where else do you find creepy shadow-dudes who try to take over the world, hysterical hummingbird-ladies, or teenage winter spirits?

...You see my point.

But it wasn't just those things that made Burgess a strange place. It was also the people, who generally were a bit more eccentric than could reasonably be considered healthy.

Take Hermione Beagle, who kept flocks of imaginary cats. Take Gerry Hughes, who collected wood-lice in biscuit-tins and stored them in his bathroom, for reasons best known to himself. Take Teresa June, who had a habit of walking around dazedly, wearing a toga and telling complete strangers how she killed a whale with a penknife. They're _all_ bats.

So perhaps Mrs. Eyola Windsor, widow of thirty years, resident of 342 Waverly Road, and somewhat off her rocker, should be considered more normal than most. But first, a look into this excellent old lady's character.

Now, being the foolishly-sanguine people that we are, we automatically assume that Mrs. Eyola Windsor was one of those nice old ladies that you tend to meet at Gardening Conventions. Y'know, one of those who gave milk to stray cats, seeds to the blackbirds, candy to children, and donations to charities. Those ladies.

Mrs. Eyola Windsor did none of these things.

She threw bricks at the stray cats, cursed the blackbirds, chased the children out with a riding crop, and swore venomously at any and all charities that dared to call her.

Mrs. Eyola Windsor was, in short, Hell on Earth.

But Mrs. Eyola Windsor wasn't just mean. She was also eccentric.

She was one of those people who believed that you were born in the past, you lived in the past, and you died in the past. To put it plainly, she had utterly refused to adapt to the modern world, and instead had locked herself in her mansion with nothing but a vast collection of Victorian furniture and an even vaster collection of Victorian clothing.

In short, she quite literally lived in her own portion of Victorian-Era London, and staunchly refused to move from there.

So perhaps it wasn't such a surprise that people generally avoided Mrs. Eyola Windsor.

Which was why the lady in question was understandably startled to see a brown-haired teen in a blue hoodie wandering around on her front lawn.

* * *

Right now, as the Guardians were cornering her and demanding where their youngest was, Josephine's only coherent thought was _I need a pay rise_.

I mean, _please_. This was getting annoying. You would think that after she had to single-handedly deal with a hoard of hydras in Nepal, some Stymphalian Birds in Greece, several ice-giants in Siberia, and a herd of wendigos in Italy, Lady Persephone would give her a bit of a break, right?

Wrong.

Doing her best to remain perfectly calm and emotionless, as a good Reaper should, Josephine restrained herself from pinching the bridge of her nose. "As I have said three times already, _Guardians_ , I am not responsible for your young friend's plight. He brought this about on himself. If you want someone to blame, you should go visit him. I believe he is still by that lake of his."

"Like hell we are! Yer gonna tell us how ta get him back, and quickly, too!"

Oh _really_? And how should _she_ know?

"You know very well that I am simply an Underling, Bunnymund. If you wish to bargain, you should speak to Lady Persephone."

" _Lady_ Persephone? _ **Lady**_ Persephone? That _monster_ took my Sweet Tooth, and you call her a _lady_?!"

"Oh _please,_ Queen Toothiana. Lady Persephone may be a bit...caustic at times, but she is hardly a _monster._ She simply does her job, as I do."

She blatantly ignored the fact that Tooth now looked like she dearly wanted to strangle her, and continued. "Now, much as I have enjoyed our little chat, I am afraid that I must be going. I am a very busy person. Please let me go, Sanderson..."

The sandman in question shook his head.

"... _Before_ I turn to drastic and painful measures, most of which involve slowly disintegrating you."

Josephine fell to the floor with a small thud as Sandy hastily did precisely that. With a mental sigh directed at the stupidity of her fellow beings and at the pitiful state of her wings (dreamsand ropes and primary feathers apparently did _not_ go well together), the Underling stood and brushed herself off before performing an impressively tall leap to the windowsill. She spared a condescending look for the Guardians, who were all yelling at her, before jumping off the windowsill into the freezing wind of the North Pole.

As she spread her glossy black wings and began the long flight home, Josephine couldn't help but chuckle deprecatingly.

Some spirits really were morons.

* * *

As the Guardians stared after the retreating back of the Underling, they were forced to admit that they might have screwed up. Just a little bit.

...Okay, maybe more than a little bit.

 _Definitely_ not too badly.

...Okay, maybe badly.

...Actually, they had screwed up quite a hell of a lot.

I mean, look at it this way: They had just encountered someone who might have known where their youngest was, and how to get him back. And what had they done?

They had failed to get the information they needed.

So, in other words, they had screwed up.

North sighed. "So, what do we do now?"

The Guardians shared a look. If this Josephine woman wouldn't help them (which she definitely wouldn't) then there was only one other spirit who could.

With mirrored looks of determination, the Guardians marched as one to the sleigh.

* * *

Morticia Persephone, Goddess of the Underworld, was bored to all hell.

Bored, bored, bored, bored, _bored_.

Sure, she was the Goddess of the Underworld, but just because she was a freaking immortal Goddess didn't mean that her job wasn't boring. Because let's face it, people: Death was boring. Like, really boring. There was absolutely nothing more boring than Dea-

That was when a large, red sleigh collided with the wall of her skull-palace.

Maybe her day wouldn't be so boring after all...

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **...**

 **Please don't kill me.**


	10. Counterpart I

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys. How are you doing?**

 **Now, the reason I'm updating sooner than normal is...I'm getting sick. Okay, people?**

 **And I wanted to get this last chappie out before I get bedridden for an indefinite amount of time.**

 **So here you go.**

 **This is, surprisingly enough, not a request for anyone. This is just my personal headcanon, that all the Guardians have Dark/Evil counterparts. Like North has Krampus and Sandy has Pitch. Tooth also has an OC of mine (a Hungarian spirit named Serule [SEH-RU-leh]) and I'm working on Bunny's.**

 **And then I began thinking about Jack's counterpart and...this happened.**

 **The basic story is that everyone has a dark side, but Guardians can't have dark sides. So when a Guardian takes their Oath, their dark side is literally separated from them and becomes its own person.**

 **Now take Jack, who has three hundred years worth of demons to carry...when his dark side is separated from him, what happens?**

 **Chaos.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own RotG. Do own Kvol, so don't steal him.**

* * *

 _Some say the world will end in fire,_

 _Some say in ice._

 _From what I've tasted of desire_

 _I hold with those who favor fire._

 _But if it had to perish twice,_

 _I think I know enough of hate_

 _To say that for destruction ice_

 _Is also great_

 _And would suffice_.-Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"

* * *

Every person, no matter how good, innocent, or caring, has a dark side.

No exceptions.

Now normally, this is not a problem. Most people choose to suppress their darker half, focusing instead on the good parts of life. Others choose to let their two sides work in conjunction, their personalities turning into a strange mix of good and bad, black and white, until all their feelings and morals attain a washed-out grayish color. Others still let their darker half remain dominant, and these are the most dangerous.

But what happens when you become a Guardian?

What happens when keeping your darker half is no longer an option?

What happens to your darker half then?

Why, they become their own person, of course…

* * *

Something was wrong.

Or right.

Whatever.

The point is, something was definitely different.

It had started soon after he took his Guardian Oath:

Before, he had demons. No one can remain entirely sane after three hundred years of being alone (no, his brief time as a Protector* did not count—in fact, the eventual massacre of his friends and coworkers only served to make his demons stronger) and he himself was no exception, immortality or no immortality. The end result was that he eventually ended up with a dark, resentful corner of his mind which seemed oddly fascinated with death and destruction and which he suppressed to the best of his ability.

He had also named it Kvol, just for the heck of it, but that's beside the point.

But now, for some reason, he no longer had any demons to suppress. Because ever since he took his Guardian Oath, Kvol had simply...disappeared.

At first, he attributed it to his newfound place among the Guardians, resigned to the knowledge that it was only the thrill of no longer being alone that chased away his demons, and that sooner or later, he would once again hear Kvol's deriding taunts in the corners of his mind. But that day never came.

As much as Jack would like to deny it, it unnerved him. His demons were a part of him, the two linked in a deadly dance of dark and light and black and white, both fighting for dominance. To have his longtime foe simply vanish was worrying.

And as much as he tried to stifle the feeling, in a strange way, he also _missed_ Kvol. That cruel, heartless voice had brought horrible torment to him, it was true, but it was one of the few constants in his tumultuous life. No matter where he went or what he did, Kvol would always be there, mocking him. And a part of him had enjoyed the constant interaction with his foe, imaginary and hurtful though he was. At least it was _someone_.

All in all, he was worried.

He flew haphazardly, barely paying attention to his surroundings as he kept his ears alert for a sound, any sound, from Kvol.

Nothing.

He shook his head. What was he doing? Was he actually wishing for his tormentor to come back? How sick was he?

If Kvol had really gone for good, than it was more along the lines of a good riddance than anything else.

He should be happy.

And so, ignoring the hollow feeling in his chest, Jack soared away to the Pole, his trademark mischievous grin on his face.

He did have a bit of a lesson to teach to the elves, anyway. No one dipped his hoodie into a vat of chocolate sauce and got away scott-free.

* * *

The snow-covered forest was silent.

The thin hiss of steam broke that silence.

Quietly, the figure strolled through the trees, steam rising at every step as his bare feet touched the snow, turning the snow to steam on contact. His tattered ash-gray cloak brushed against a branch, setting it aflame.

The figure stopped.

His hazel-orange eyes stared into the sky, the only visible feature of his hooded face. They glinted with fury, grief, and madness.

And he chuckled. A low, sinister sound, like pebbles tumbling down the side of a roof.

"...Missed me, Jackie?"

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Jack hears voices and has an imaginary friend/enemy/torturer. Yay.**

 ***The Protectors were a group of three spirits, dedicated to protecting the world from various demons and evil spirits. Jack joined their ranks in 1907, and remained with them for over fifty years. Unfortunately, the three original members all died gruesome deaths on June 12, 1963, leaving Jack alone to grieve their deaths. He never fully recovered.**

 **The Protectors are mine. Don't steal them.**

 **Side note: Kvol means "torment" in Icelandic.**

 **Review? ^^**


	11. Seasonal Court I

**A/N:**

 **::cough:: H-hi g-::cough cough::-guys...**

 **Yep, still sick. So if this chapter is a little incoherent in places, blame it on my delirium.**

 **Also, I've stopped getting requests, I only get a follower once in a blue moon, and reviews are now few and far between (well, they've always been few and far between, but now they're...fewer, and farther). Is there any particular reason for that? Was it something I said? Is my writing bad? Should I simply kill this story, abandon my account, and leave the world of fanfiction forevermore? Or am I simply overreacting, my chronic lack of faith in myself causing me to experience a vague illusion? What's your vote?**

 **Anyway, this little gem is for WinterCrystal1009 (look, I spelled it right this time :P) who, once upon a time, requested something where the Spirits of the Seasons have a meeting, and the Guardians decide to watch. Hope you like, Winter Crystal1009!**

 **Disclaimer: ::sings in an exaggeratedly low voice:: I had a dream...where I owned RotG...but it was nothing more than a dream...and will always be a fantasy~**

* * *

It took Jack all of five minutes to decide that this was the most boring Guardian meeting in recorded history.

Which was, y'know, actually pretty impressive, considering that at almost all the other Guardian meetings, he had come to that same conclusion after at least ten minutes. Clearly, this was an unusually boring meeting.

The Spirit of Winter slumped listlessly in his chair as Bunnymund and North once again started their age-old argument of which holiday was better. Honestly, one would think the two Guardians thought of nothing else, seeing as they had this same discussion at every single meeting.

 _Every. Single._ _ **One.**_

Heck, Jack could probably recite their bi-monthly argument from _memory_ by now. Complete with accents, mannerisms, and gestures.

Boring.

Jack yawned.

* * *

After fifteen more minutes of the so-called "meeting" (which Jack had by now privately nicknamed "North's bi-monthly excuse to argue with Bunny"), Jack had reached the Event Horizon Of Boredom, and had decided that this terrible catastrophe must be remedied. Hence why he was now drawing random frost pictures on the tabletop while completely ignoring what was going on around him.

At first, Tooth had given him half-hearted looks of disapproval, but as time went by...well, let's just say that she had by now practically draped herself across the table like a blanket in order to get a closer look at some of the finer details of the frost pictures.

To be honest, Jack wasn't sure whether it was because she liked the drawings, or because she was simply too bored to care.

He was vaguely aware of Tooth and Sandy's interested stares as he began to draw a frost picture of his sister, but decided to ignore them.

He could not, however, ignore it when the enraged Spirit of Autumn unexpectedly barged into the room, screaming his name like a blood-thirsty banshee.

It was a shame. He had almost finished with the left eyebrow…

* * *

"FROST!"

Now, the Guardians were not, by any means, particularly observant spirits. In fact, the majority of them (excluding Jack) had a rather frightful tendency to completely miss certain important and rather obvious details.

However, not even the Guardians could possibly miss it when a very angry-looking female spirit in a bright-orange Roman toga suddenly barged into the Globe Room, screaming, flailing, and foaming at the mouth like a mentally defective praying mantis with rabies.

Needless to say, they were rather startled. Except for Jack, who simply looked sheepish before waving at the very-pissed-off spirit. "Oh, hey 'Lia."

The spirit ground her teeth, a frightening sound that killed every single bee within a ten-mile radius (of course, there were no bees at the North Pole, but that was irrelevant), before practically snarling at the winter spirit. "Firstly, it's _Aurelia_ , you worthless ingrate. And secondly, why are you not at the Seasonal Meeting?!"

Jack's eyes widened comically. "Oh shoot, that was today?!"

The spirit (now identified as being named Aurelia) glared murderously at Jack, and the other Guardians were suddenly acutely aware that she had a scabbard with a very sharp-looking sword on her left side. "Of course it was today, you blithering half-wit! Today is the Spring Equinox, or hadn't that garden pest commonly known as the Groundhog told you?"

Jack shrugged. "Tawney doesn't really talk to me that much, 'Lia."

Aurelia put her hands on her hips. "Well, maybe if you didn't have a habit of throwing snowballs at the Groundhog every year—and by the way, Frost, his name is _Punxsutawney Phil_ , not Tawney—he would talk to you more."

Jack smirked. "Don't think I can do that, Lia. Old habits die hard."

Aurelia's reddish-orange eyes narrowed as she hissed, and a chilly wind began to whip through the room as brambles started to blanket the floor. "My name is _Aurelia_ , you ingrate."

Which was when the Guardians, or rather, Tooth, decided to intervene before blood was shed. "Um, Sweet Tooth?"

The winter spirit in question turned to face her. "Yeah?"

Tooth bit her lip. "Who is this lady?"

Jack looked nonplussed, before his expression brightened. "Oh, right, you don't know."

Bunny frowned. "Don't know what?"

Jack grinned, before turning to Aurelia. "Aurelia, these are the Guardians. Guardians, this is Aurelia, Spirit of Autumn and the foster sister of yours truly."

"I am not your sister."

"You are in all but blood, sister mine."

"Call me your sister again and I will turn you into a living sieve."

"...You wouldn't dream of it."

"Try me."

The Guardians decided, for the sake of their sanity, to interfere again. This time, North held the floor. "You mean there are other seasonal spirits apart from you, Jack?"

Aurelia raised one fine golden eyebrow. "...Do your new coworkers reside underneath rocks, Frost?"

Jack grimaced. "Worse. Anyway, to answer your question, North, yes, there are other seasonal spirits besides me. Hundreds, actually. But the main ones are Livia, Blaze, Aurelia, and I, who are in charge of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter respectively."

North blinked. "And what is this we have heard about a meeting?"

"Oh, that's the biyearly Gathering Of The Seasonal Court. Twice a year, on the Spring and Autumn Equinoxes, the Head Seasonals have to discuss stuff. Y'know, where and when transitions between seasons need to happen, which places need more of a particular season, weather patterns, cold and warm fronts, blah blah blah. Boring."

"...Believe me, Frost, it will not be nearly as boring for you if you are not out of this room within the next five seconds."

Jack pouted. "Aw, come on, Lia, can't you let it slide? I'm pretty busy right now."

"Yes, I'm sure listening to a couple of dimwits prattle uselessly while drawing ice pictures on the table is _such_ an important task."

"Liaaaaaaaaa..."

"Frost, you will come with me to the Gathering, or you will suffer the most excruciating pain ever experienced by spirit, man, or beast."

"...Fiiiiine."

Aurelia turned to the door. "Very well. Now for Moon's sake, let us be going before the meeting is over."

"Yes, _mother._ "

"...You will regret that comment."

"That's what you always say."

"This time, I intend to uphold my promise."

"...Damn."

* * *

Three minutes later, the entire Globe Room was covered in brambles and icicles, and Aurelia was dragging a (loudly complaining) Jack by his right ear to the Gathering.

The Guardians followed, still somewhat bemused.

* * *

"Ow. Ow. Ow ow ow. Ow ow ow ow ow ow _ow ow ow_ _ **ow ow ow**_ **-** -"

The never-ending stream of 'ow's emitting from Jack only ended when Aurelia let go of his ear, who dumped him unceremoniously onto the ground.

Jack rubbed his throbbing ear, wincing in pain before glaring balefully at the autumn spirit. "That was highly unnecessary, not to mention undignified."

Aurelia simply smirked wickedly, a terrifying sight that was capable of bringing a minotaur to its knees. "You asked for it."

"Did not."

"Yes, you did."

"Did not."

"Did."

"Did not."

" _Did._ "

"Did _not_."

As the pseudo-siblings fell into bickering with an ease that had to be seen to be believed, the Guardians couldn't really do much except stare.

Tooth mused absently that it was probably fortunate they had used Sandy's dreamsand clouds for travel rather than the sleigh. North would probably have crashed the sleigh out of sheer surprise.

For there, in front of them, for all the world to see...was a giant temple-thing.

...Take a Mayan pyramid, okay?

Now enlarge it to twice its size, cover it in intricate patterns of green, yellow, orange, and blue paint, and cover the whole thing with a blanket of ivy and brambles. You will end up with something that will be nowhere near as majestic as the temple now in front of the Guardians, but it'll give you a pretty good idea of what said temple looked like.

No wonder the Guardians were rather surprised.

* * *

After around five minutes (during which Aurelia had a wrestling match with Jack over a poorly-thought-out comment he had made, and the Guardians had simply watched them in confusion) Aurelia decided that enough was enough.

"Come on, you ingrate. The others are waiting." To emphasize her point, Aurelia swiftly began shoving Jack towards the temple's entrance.

"Okay, okay, geez, I can walk, you know?"

"Really? I would have thought that with the sheer amount of brain-damage caused by your frequent crashing into trees, you would barely be able to walk in a straight line."

"Oh ha ha, that was so funny I've forgotten how to laugh."

"I suppose that you will have to resign from your position as a Guardian, then. Not that it will be much of a loss."

"Ah, but then I would have more time to mess around with your season."

"...Your ability to walk unflinchingly into the maws of Death amazes me."

"Are my ears ringing?"

…The Guardians decided another intervention was in order.

"Mate, what the bloody hell is goin' on?"

Aurelia turned her fierce orange gaze on him, and Bunny suddenly felt his skin crawling. "Your little _friend_ here is late for an important meeting, and I was directed to drag him there. We are now at our destination. You four may leave."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Sheila. We're comin' with ya."

Aurelia flicked a strand of red-orange hair out of her face. "I assure you, that is hardly necessary."

Bunny staunchly refused to acknowledge the warning looks his teammates were sending him. "Oh, it's necessary. How do I know ya ain't gonna hurt him?"

"Why would I hurt a fellow seasonal?"

"How should I know? The point is, I don't know ya, Sheila, and I want ta be sure this ain't a trap."

"Oh for heavens sake-"

"No. We're comin' with ya. No discussion."

Aurelia stared at him flatly, before sighing. "Very well then. But I refuse to be held responsible for the inevitable damage that will be wrought upon your sanity."

The Guardians had no time to wonder what exactly she meant, for right after she said that they were being dragged into the temple by brambles.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

 **A/N: Aurelia is a bit too...harsh, don't you think?**

 **Well, that's what happens if you used to be the daughter of a Roman general before you became a spirit...**

 **...Thoughts?**


	12. Murphy's Law

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys! How are y'all doing?**

 **First off, thank you all so much for your encouraging reviews on the last chapter! They really helped keep my spirits up. I love you guys! ^^  
**

 **Secondly, let's have a round of applause for guest reviewer _The Alpha,_ who made a request a while back for something where North gets injured and Tooth worries, and who has been waiting so patiently for me to write it ever since :D Hope you like, _The Alpha_!**

 **Thirdly, I apologize for any incoherency or bad writing you may find in this story. I recently had a rather painful jaw operation and I was in a horrible amount of pain when writing this. It sucks, because I still have a cough from the cold, and whenever I cough it hurts my poor jaw D: A fine example of Murphy's Law...**

 **Fourthly, I have posted a poll on my profile! Go vote! Your opinion matters!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: If I did own RotG, I would have been able to get a general anesthetic for my jaw operation. As it is, I had to use local freezing. Which sucked.**

* * *

" _Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong at the worst possible time." -_ Murphy's law

* * *

There were times when North really despaired of Lady Luck.

Now was one of those times.

Oh sure, it wasn't all that serious. They had dealt with Nightmares, ghouls, demons, Fearlings, more Nightmares, more Fearlings, demented zombie-pigeons, some Yuki-Onnas, and **more** Nightmares. So really, a herd of blood-thirsty wendigos should be a piece of cake.

Except it wasn't.

First off, by some strange power-melding between this herd of wendigos and their owner (who apparently was a fire spirit of some kind), the wendigos were capable of breathing fireballs.

Considering that one of the Guardians was a winter spirit, this was a problem.

Secondly, wendigos had very sharp teeth.

Thirdly, they could fly.

And fourthly, they were carnivorous. Very, very carnivorous.

So North was quick to come to the conclusion that there was absolutely nothing worse than having to face a large herd of flying, fire-breathing, carnivorous demon horses. Even trying to get Jack to wear _shoes_ was easier than this.

With a grunt of effort, he swiftly hacked through another couple of wendigos, which promptly dissipated into ashes. At least there was one good thing about the wendigos: they swiftly disintegrated whenever you gave them even the lightest tap.

Given a momentary reprieve from being attacked, the Cossack decided to see how his companions were faring.

Tooth was doing well, her mind focused entirely on the battle as she ducked fireballs and hacked through wendigos with her razor-sharp wings. Sandy was also managing, his whips destroying dozens of wendigos at a time. Bunny was slightly overwhelmed, his inability to fly and inefficiency of his weapons somewhat crippling, but his superior speed and reflexes enabling him to avoid any major injuries. Last but not least, Jack was also doing well, ducking the fireballs with an ease that spoke of years of practice. Noticing that North was watching him, the frost teen swiftly gave the older Guardian a thumbs-up before throwing himself back into the fray.

All in all, things were fine.

But, as a wise man once said, "whatever can go wrong, will go wrong at the worst possible time". And while this might not be true in some cases, it definitely applied to what happened next.

What happened next was this:

North's sleigh got hit by a fireball.

* * *

The first thing North was aware of was that it was very warm and he was falling.

The second thing he was aware of was that he was surrounded by flames.

The third thing he was aware of was that he was screwed.

There was no fourth thing.

For right after the third thing, the sleigh crash-landed on top of a building, and his world went dark.

* * *

The first thing North was aware of was that he hurt like hell.

The second thing North was aware of was that he would need a new sleigh.

The third thing North was aware of was that someone with a very high-pitched voice was ranting frantically.

Mildly curious, North tried to figure out what this person with the high-pitched voice was saying. They seemed to be talking extremely quickly.

With an effort, he began to make out some of the words.

"And I know he's injured and I don't know what to do and Bunny I don't think he's supposed to be bleeding like that plus those burns look awful and he's not moving and _why isn't he waking up_?"

Ah. That could only be Tooth.

With far too much exertion for such a small task, North pried his eyes open.

"HE'S AWAKE!"

The next moment he was quickly regretting that decision, as Tooth's colorful form swiftly appeared in front of his face while she began ranting.

"Oh my goodness North I was so worried you weren't waking up and you're covered in burns and you're bleeding and you don't look too good are you feeling nauseous do you feel faint how many fingers am I holding up let me look at your teeth!"

Small fingers swiftly yanked his mouth open as the fairy began examining his teeth. "Oh thank goodness none of them are chipped!"

"Crikey, Sheila! Calm down before ya knock him out again!"

"But Bunny, he's hurt!"

Really? As if a simple fireball would be enough to bring him down...he chuckled at the thought.

"He's laughing, he must be in shock! Bunny, _do something_!"

Still chuckling, North laid a hand on Tooth's arm. "Calm yourself, _miledi._ I am fine, see?"

Tooth glared at him, her feathers ruffling angrily. "You most certainly are _not_ fine, North!"

"As usual, _dorogoy_ , you worry over nothing. I am strong, like Russian bear. Do you think a simple _d'yavol_ will kill me _?"_

"You may be many things, North, but invincible is not one of them! You're badly hurt, and I have a right to worry!"

"Tooth, enough. You are like _..._ how do you say? 'Hen mother', da? You worry too much."

" _I do_ _ **not**_ _worry too much!"_

As the hummingbird-fairy drew herself up to her full height, North couldn't help but feel mildly apprehensive. Tooth may have had a very kind and motherly character, but when she was riled, steeled warriors ran for cover.

And right now, she was definitely riled.

"I. Do not. Worry too much! You are horribly injured, North, and you're lucky you didn't loose a limb! You could have lost a finger, you could have broken a leg, you could have _died!_ How do you think we would have been affected if you had died, North, huh?! How!? Do you think we would have simply shaken it off?!"

Yep, definitely very riled indeed. Initiate emergency protocol.

"You were reckless and careless and if you ever tell me again that I should not worry than you will regret it, because you're damned right I have a right to worry!"

"Tooth, calm down-"

"I WILL NOT _CALM DOWN_!"

Code red. Initiate evacuation proceedings.

"You are foolish and irresponsible, and you nearly died because of that! I will not calm down!"

Danger sighted. Send out warnings.

"Tooth..."

"No, North! This has to be said! Once and for all you must learn to be more careful!'

"But, Toothy..."

"Don't "Toothy" me, North! I am not in a mood to be trifled with! You will _listen to me_!"

"Tooth-"

" _Enough_!"

"Tooth, there are wendigos behind you."

And all hell broke loose.

* * *

(Tooth still managed to finish scolding North once the Guardians had made their way to the Pole. North was not happy.)

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Not too happy with the ending, but my painkiller-numbed mind can't come up with anything better. So enjoy the anticlimactic ending.**

 **Translations:**

 ** _Miledi_ -My lady**

 ** _Dorogoy_ -My dear**

 ** _D'yavol_ -devil, demon**

 **I took a lot of liberties with the folk tale of wendigos. Wendigos are supposed to be demons who feed on human flesh. The fact that they look like carnivorous skeletal horses is all my fault.  
**

 **Also, because I'm the authoress and I can, I decided that if a spirit has tamed one or more wendigos, then the spirit and the wendigo(s) meld powers. I dunno, it seemed like a good idea at the time...?**

 **Ah, screw it. I'm the authoress, I do whatever the hell I want.**

 **...Review?**


	13. All Day Long

**A/N: ::walks in with starbucks:: Hey nerds how ya doin  
**

 **This is the next part of the Penny arc, in case y'all are wondering ^^ It's been long enough.**

 **Anyway, you people are so lucky that I still have my writing mojo going. I had a little depressive fit and kinda lost my motivation for a while. But I'm fine now!**

 **Also, please go vote on the poll on my profile. I really would like your opinion, guys!**

 **And if you're into slightly darker stories than this collection has to offer, feel free to check out "The Storyteller's Scrapbook". I don't do requests there, though, so yeah ^^'**

 **Reply to Guest reviews:**

 _ **Guest:**_ **Well, as you can see, it just got posted ^^ I hope you like it!**

 _ **Lionqueen:**_ **Consider your request accepted! Might take a little while though, but don't worry! I'll get it done!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RotG.**

* * *

It wasn't easy to phase Morticia Persephone. Not even when you drove a giant red sleigh through her castle.

So when the Guardians did just that, Morticia did little more than raise her left eyebrow one sixteenth of an inch, and ask in a voice as chilling as cold obsidian. "And _what_ do you think you're doing?"

The Guardians reacted in much the same way as an ordinary person would have done when faced with the clearly irritated Goddess of the Underworld: They jumped slightly, turned rigid, and did their best _not_ to run away screaming.

Morticia smiled, an almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her mouth. It was always amusing to see people's reactions to her various moods. It was like dangling a puppet on its strings. But that was what happened when you literally held someone's life in your hands, she supposed.

"I ask you again, _what_ do you think you're doing?"

She barely restrained a chuckle as the Guardians shuffled nervously like some disobedient schoolboys. Really, this whole Death shtick may be boring as hell, but it did come with its advantages.

Surprisingly, Sandy was the first to speak up (well, not really, seeing as he couldn't actually speak—ah, forget it) by creating a sand image of a snowflake, followed by a question mark.

Morticia sighed. It was a pity, she rather liked Sandy. But duty came before personal feelings, and she had to put this Sandman in his place before he got any big ideas.

She idly tapped the armrest of her throne with one stone-gray finger. "I assume that you're here about the frost kid?"

Sandy nodded.

"Well, looks like you're fresh outta luck, kid. I don't do exchanges, returns, or refunds."

"You did for Jack."

"Well, that, Miss Feathers, is because he gave me a pretty sweet deal. You guys are lucky, it's rare to have a friend who'd willingly give up his life, powers, and immortality in order to save a fleabag."

Bunny seethed. "Give. Him. Back."

"What am I, some sort of Currency Exchange booth? I already did you people a favor, I'm not going to start switching between one victim or the other just because you can't make up your minds which one of you should kick the bucket."

"Give Jack back."

"Not happening."

"Give Jack back or we'll make you wish you've never been born."

"Go screw yourselves."

"You'll regret this."

"I doubt it. Now piss off."

* * *

Later on, the Guardians were forced to admit that they had, once again, screwed up.

North was the first to speak up. "We must find Jack."

"And how do ya plan ta do that, mate? It's not like we know where Jack is."

" _We_ don't. But Miss Josephine should, right?"

The Guardians exchanged glances. Tooth was right.

With mirrored looks of determination, the Guardians marched as one to the (somewhat dilapidated) sleigh.

Time to find an Underling.

* * *

Mrs. Eyola Windsor had just officially received her daily dose of 'what'.

Never before had something like this happened.

Children did not just wander around willy-nilly on her lawn like that.

Something would have to be done.

Taking her riding crop firmly in hand, Mrs. Eyola Windsor marched out onto her lawn, firmly intent on thrashing the boy to next week.

* * *

In the end, Mrs. Eyola Windsor wasn't entirely sure how she went from a thrashing to giving the boy tea and scones.

It had to be his face, she decided. Somehow, as she had shook the riding crop in his face, the child had simply nailed her with a look full of disappointment, regret, and acceptance, like someone who had seen all the cruelties that the world had to offer, and knew that there would be many more cruelties to come. For some reason, his strangely wise eyes combined with his slightly old-fashioned aura made it impossible for her to hurt him.

Within minutes, she had found herself wrapping a blanket around the shivering teen with a gentleness she never knew she had, before placing him firmly in an armchair by the fireplace and shoving a cup of tea and a plate of scones in his hands. In return, he had reacted with a sort of tense politeness, like he was scared of doing something wrong.

It puzzled her, to say the least.

Now, she was occupied with trying to find out the teen's history. With any luck, she'd be able to find his family and send him back.

She coughed quietly. "Do you have any relatives, child?"

The child started, brown eyes meeting hers for a brief instant before he looked away. "...No."

She pressed on. "Well, do you have any friends that could house you?"

"...I used to. Not anymore."

Now, Mrs. Eyola Windsor was a loner, that much was clear. But she also had a bit of a love for gossiping. So, needless to say, she was intrigued.

"What do you mean, child?"

The child—Jack, she reminded herself, she really needed to stop referring to him as 'child'—fidgeted nervously with his teacup. "...It's a bit of a long story."

"We have time."

The child — _Jack_ —glanced at her before suddenly becoming very interested in the contents of his teacup. "It's...well, it's complicated. Basically, things changed and now they can't really take care of me anymore."

"Anymore?"

"...Yeah. My family died a long time ago, and I was on my own for a while, and then a few strangers took me in. But now they can't really keep me anymore."

Mrs. Eyola Windsor felt a small flare of rage in her soul. "Do you mean that they simply _left_ you, child?"

Jack cocked his head to one side. "...Sorta? More like the other way around."

Mrs. Eyola Windsor was more than a little angry. How someone could simply leave a child to fend for themselves was beyond her.

(Of course, she resolutely decided to ignore all the times when she had sent away orphans and beggars who had asked her for alms)

Still, it would not do to let the child— _ **Jack**_ —experience the brunt of her anger. With businesslike precision, she quickly set up the guest bedroom and had Jack tucked into bed before the boy really knew what was happening. The boy protested at first, but the sleeping draft she had slipped into his tea soon put an end to that.

As the widow began mounting the stairs to her own bedroom, she couldn't help but think that something was slightly wrong concerning the child. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on…

Of course, that was when someone knocked at the door.

Cursing those who knocked at people's doors in the middle of the night, Mrs. Eyola Windsor hastily waddled to the door and opened it.

Only to find herself face to face with a six foot tall rabbit.

* * *

For a little while, the rabbit and the woman simply stared at each other, the rabbit looking just as surprised as the woman.

Then, something even more impossible happened:

The bunny cleared his throat and _spoke_.

"Mrs. Windsor?"

Mrs. Windsor nodded numbly.

"Mrs. _Eyola_ Windsor?"

She nodded again.

"I'm here to take Jack."

She found her voice. "No, you aren't."

"I'm dreadfully sorry," said the rabbit, "but I'm afraid I am."

She gaped.

"Can I come in?"

And with that, the six foot tall rabbit calmly walked into Mrs. Eyola Windsor's house.

* * *

 **A/N: Bunny needs to work on his people skills.**

 **Anyway, to explain why Eyola can see the Easter Bunny: it's not because she believes in the Easter Bunny as such. If you take a look at what Jack told Eyola, you'll notice that he mentioned some "friends" who used to house him. Eyola believed in the existence of these "friends". She just didn't know that one of these "friends" was the Easter Bunny. A useful little loophole, I think.  
**

 **...Review?**


	14. The Engineer

**A/N: I originally was going to post this on "The Storyteller's Scrapbook" (seeing as that collection has somehow become the haven for my darker one-shots), but I think it has earned its place here ^^. I'm quite proud of this little piece.**

 **BTW, this is an AU where Jack never joined the Guardians.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own!**

* * *

 _"The Sandman is coming in his train of cars, with moonbeam windows and wheels of stars. So hush you little ones, and have no fear. The man in the moon, he is the engineer."-_ Nursery rhyme from _Alice: Madness Returns_ , the sequel to _American McGee's Alice_

* * *

Power always corrupts. No matter how pure a person may be, if they are gifted with enormous power, they will inevitably turn out the worse for it.

The Man in the Moon was no exception. And he, just like the others, soon turned into a fiend.

Oh, it wasn't visible at first, no. Just a few subtle things here and there. Little things, like creating a spirit only to leave it on its own for centuries, or causing minor chaos in some war-tired places, or messing around with his lackeys, the Guardians. Petty things, stupid things, things that everyone easily ignored.

It wasn't long before it started getting worse.

Minor chaos soon turned into living nightmares of death and destruction. Innocent spirits were mutilated or killed by the Guardians, simply because of some erroneous signs from the Man in the Moon. Guiltless blood was shed uselessly, and all because of the Man in the Moon.

Still, it was ignored. Spirits are, by nature, somewhat self-centered and callous beings, and they cared little about the troubles of their fellows. As long as it did not directly threaten them, they reasoned, there was no cause for panic.

For a few years, it remained this way. Every once in a while, one or two would be killed off someway or another. There would be a little stir, and then nothing.

Then, things abruptly went to hell.

A winter spirit, his name largely unknown to the spirit community, suddenly lost his mind. He froze entire cities, created wild blizzards, and killed hundreds of people, seemingly for no reason at all. And, like other spirits that had gone down the path of madness, he was swiftly and efficiently destroyed by Mother Nature herself.

That did not mean that the story was over, however. Mother Nature was called the Keeper of Balance for a reason. That one of her own nature spirits would so blatantly try to ruin the balance troubled her.

The cause was soon found: the offending spirit was no spirit of Mother Nature's, but one created directly by the Man in the Moon. For some reason, the Moon simply abandoned the spirit after creation, and left him to travel the world alone for centuries. The strain of loneliness proved to be too much for the winter spirit, and insanity was the end result.

But what was most troubling was that the spirit was merely a _child_. The very thing that the Moon and his lackeys swore to protect. The very thing they had _failed_ to protect.

Clearly, something was very, very wrong.

Terror struck the hearts of the spirits. How many others of their ilk were wandering around, abandoned by their creator? How many had turned bitter and cruel, ready to lash out at all who dared cross their path? How many were a danger to the spirit and human worlds?

Quite a hell of a lot, as it turned out afterwards.

It was like the death of the frost spirit had opened the floodgates. Countless nameless, maniacal spirits turned up in various places, their pain igniting into the blazing fires of insanity and destruction before they were rapidly quashed by the Keeper of Balance.

But even Mother Nature had a limit to her endurance, and eventually, the pressure became too much for her to bear. With a final, blood-chilling screech, balance was lost to the world, and its Keeper with it.

The spirit world was now in a frenzy of panic. Worldwide, hundreds asked, nay, _begged_ the Moon to help. Soundless cries echoed from all corners of the world as they were slaughtered by the Mad Ones.

But their cries for help were all in vain. For the Man in the Moon simply gazed down on them unblinkingly, and said not a word.

* * *

Silver-gold eyes scrutinized the land, the black lips beneath them twisted in a savage smirk. Today was the day, when fear would consume the world.

The irony of this situation was not lost on the Nightmare King. To think that his worst enemy, Tsar Lunar himself, would suddenly give _him_ a fear-poisoned world on a silver platter? The very idea was laughable.

But the Boogeyman was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially where an unending supply of fear was concerned.

He glanced back at his new army of Nightmares, grinning as the terrifying beasts pawed at the ground eagerly. It had been ridiculously easy to reform his army, what with the sheer amount of terror present throughout the planet and restoring his power. Now, both he and his forces were ready to overtake the world, and shroud it in darkness for good.

With a silent command from their master, the Nightmares swooped down on the land, swarming like bees around a flowerbed.

And as he watched them, Pitch Black smiled.

The dream was over, it was time for _fear_ to rule the world.

* * *

 **A/N: Because who doesn't love some dark!Manny with a splash of dark!Jack thrown in.**

 **...Review?**


	15. Leopards And Sunspots

**A/N: Hellooooooo, everyone! Are you all having fun?**

 **So, up next we have a requested one-shot for the wonderful guest reviewer _sparklehannah_ , who wanted to know how Jack handles the summer heat. And the answer is...not that well xD. So let's have a round of applause for _sparklehannah_!**

 **...I had way too much fun writing this xD**

 **Also, virtual cookie to the first one who solves Jack's riddle at the end of the story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RotG**

* * *

For the nth time in his rather long life, Jack was sharply reminded of the exact reasons why he really, really, _really_ didn't like summer.

Now, Jack was not the type to be taken down by a little bit of heat. Oh no. Jack may look like an animated twig wearing a hoodie, but he was also a surprisingly powerful spirit, thank you very much. So a little summer heat, an unusually hot day, or a room warmed by a fireplace wouldn't do more than make him feel a little uncomfortable.

A scorching day in the middle of the Kalahari Desert, however, was another matter entirely.

With a groan, the winter spirit flipped onto his back, staring vacantly at the clear blue sky. He coughed weakly, his throat surprisingly dry.

"...Damn elves are gonna regret this…"

Seriously, why did they think that running through the hallways with a snowglobe was a good idea? Or that crashing headlong into him was a better idea? Or that dropping the snowglobe on the ground after crashing into him was an _even better_ idea?

It was decided. Once he got out of this stupid desert, he was going to freeze every single one of them. And then tie them to strings and hang them all around the Pole like Christmas lights.

...Assuming he got out of the desert, that is.

It wouldn't be nearly as bad if he had his staff. He would have been miles away from the desert by now, soaring carelessly over oceans and plotting how to exact revenge on the pesky elves. But unfortunately, his staff was currently at the Pole, and at the mercy of the elves.

Considering that the elves had brains like particularly brain-dead pieces of Swiss cheese, Jack wasn't sure he liked that very much.

He gazed longingly at the sky, ignoring the pounding headache throbbing behind his forehead. What he would give to be flying freely through the sky, accompanied just by the Wind…

...Wait, was the sky supposed to be spinning like that?

And why the hell were green leopards flying around up there? Leopards couldn't fly, could they?

That was his last slightly incoherent thought before he fell unconscious.

* * *

Exactly thirty seconds after he woke up again, Jack was regretting it.

First off, the leopards weren't just green, but purple and blue as well. They also appeared to be carrying elves on their backs.

Secondly, his headache was killing him.

Thirdly, he felt extremely nauseous.

And fourthly, every single muscle in his body appeared to be cramped.

This sucked.

The winter child nonchalantly vomited before falling back unconscious.

* * *

He felt like he was in molasses. A huge tub of molasses, with green leopards and elves swimming around him.

...His brain felt like it was made out of molasses as well.

For some reason, this made him giggle.

He spent a few minutes yelling death threats at the leopards and the elves and the molasses, before he vomited again and all turned black.

* * *

E. Aster Bunnymund was not an idiot.

North's elves, however, were.

Hence why he was now in the middle of the Kalahari Desert, looking for the youngest Guardian.

Why did those bloody elves have to send Jack to a desert, of all places? Didn't those dimwits know that heat wasn't good for winter spirits?

It also didn't help that the Kalahari, while not the biggest desert, was definitely way too large. It would take ages to find Jack in this-

That was when he heard a muffled voice.

" _Eg helt alltaf ad hlebardir voru gulir, ekki graenn, en eg gerdi rad fyrir ad eg hefdi rangt …_ "

Okay, yeah, that was definitely Jack. It wasn't like there were many other spirits that knew Icelandic, anyway. Except for maybe Old Man Winter, or General Winter.

The overgrown rabbit swiftly began to make his way towards the voice, said voice growing louder and more coherent with every step he made.

When he finally stumbled upon Jack, however, his relief was soon overshadowed by concern.

The kid looked downright terrible, his skin an unhealthy shade of pale red, his blue eyes glazed over, and the frost on his hoodie and in his hair long since melted. He was obviously more than a little out of it, judging by his strangely gleeful and giddy expression.

Jack glanced around giddily, his face somewhat blank, before his dull blue gaze fell on Bunny. As if a switch had been flipped, the younger spirit's mouth suddenly stretched in a brilliant smile that would have left Tooth in admiring hysterics for days.

"Hi, Bunny!"

...Well, at least the kid recognized him…

"How are ya feeling, Jackie?"

Jack's face twisted in a slight frown, his eyes darkening slightly. "Hot. And tired. And giddy. I want to freeze some elves."

Okay, so not entirely present.

"Why do ya want to do that, Jack?"

Jack stared at Bunny as if he was an idiot. "So I can get them off the stupid leopards, obviously. I don't like the leopards. They're green and they keep looking at me weird."

...Leopards?

"Jack...there aren't any leopards."

"Of course there are! They're all over the place. You have to look in the sky to see them, though, they don't like being on the ground for some reason. Maybe because of the sunspots."

...Right. The brat was clearly delirious.

"...Okay. Why don't we get ya somewhere a little colder, Jack? Like the Pole?"

"But what about the leopards?"

"I'll handle the buggers later. Right now, we should get ya to the Pole."

"...Okay."

With a care that Bunnymund never knew he possessed, he cautiously picked Jack up bridal-style, before opening a tunnel to North's Workshop and swiftly jumping down it.

* * *

"Hi, North!"

Today was not North's day.

First off, it was only three months before Christmas, and the elves were wrecking everything in sight. So, he had dealt with this in what he originally thought was a remarkably smart way, but which he now realized was actually a very stupid way.

Namely, he had enlisted Jack to distract the elves so that the yetis could finally get some work done.

At first, it had worked like a charm. Jack proved to be ideal for these situations, teaching the elves how to skate, keeping them out of trouble, and occasionally freezing them if they got too out of control. North was even considering giving Jack an official job as Workshop Elf-Distractor.

But then the elves had sent Jack to the desert, _without his staff_ , and everything had gone to hell. And now North found himself dealing with a delirious and slightly crazy Jack Frost.

"Hi, North!"

Yes, it was definitely not North's day.

The Cossack sighed, suddenly faced with a tremendous craving for something a little stronger than eggnog. "Hello, Jack."

"Hi, North!"

"...How are you feeling?"

"Hi, North!"

North exchanged glances with Bunnymund (who was supporting Jack). "...Do you know how long he will be this way?"

Bunny shook his head. "No idea, mate. He was pretty bad when I found him."

North cursed the elves. "Should we move him to infirmary?"

"I think so."

North sighed. "Very well."

As North made his way to the door, he was interrupted by Jack. "Hey, North?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"I have a question."

"Yes?"

"What belongs to you but others use it more than you do?"

"...What?"

"It's a riddle, North. What belongs to you but others use it more than you do?"

The two older Guardians shared a look, before unceremoniously dragging Jack to the infirmary.

* * *

 **A/N: ...I'm...not too happy with this for some reason. I don't know why. I just don't like it.**

 **Ah, well...**

 **...Don't kill me?**

 **Also, Jack's symptoms are based off of heatstroke symptoms, which include dizziness, muscle cramps, headaches, red skin, nausea, confusion, disorientation, staggering (hence why Bunny was supporting him), and unconsciousness. The only thing I added extra were the hallucinations about leopards.**

 **...Review?**


	16. Cold And Gray I

**A/N: Um...hi?**

 **::ducks flying fruit:: Ah, I'm sorry it took me so long to update! ::ducks kitchen knives:: But my computer broke down, and my internet was flaky, and I only just got back! ::dodges kitchen sink:: I'M SORRY!  
**

 **...**

 **Anyway...back to your regularly scheduled program!**

 **So, next up we have a request for the lovely Xix, who wanted something where Jack meets the ghost of his sister. Now, I wasn't able to piece something together that involved that EXACT idea, but I do have something similar! So yeah.**

 **Anyway, here is the first part of...::drumroll:: ANOTHER FRIKKIN ARC! YAY!**

 **BTW, the cookie from last chapter's riddle is hereby awarded to Fluttershy127, who was the first to find the answer to the riddle (the answer was "your name")! Congratulations, my dear! ::hands out the cookie::**

 **Now for a new game! There's a reference to a rather well-known fictional story hidden at the very beginning of this one-shot. First one to give me the title of the story, as well as the name of its author, gets a bowl of ice cream in whatever flavor happens to be your favorite!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a flaky Internet connection and a crappy desktop computer.**

* * *

 _If the darkness falls, and my angel calls,_

 _In my despair,_

 _Will you be there?_

 _In the darkest night,_

 _When I need your light,_

 _Will you show me the way?_

 _If my time runs out,_

 _And the sky falls down,_

 _Despite my fear,_

 _Will you appear?_

 _If the world goes blind,_

 _And I lose my mind,_

 _Will you show me the way?_

 _Tonight. - "_ Wolf Bite", by Owl City

* * *

The day had broken cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the flying sleigh touched down in the middle of the frozen Yukon. The sombre mood of its five occupants matched the depressing surroundings perfectly, each of their faces sporting a look of sorrow and grim determination. Even the youngest of the group, a white-haired teen with a predilection for pranks and trouble-making, looked uncharacteristically serious, and was sitting quietly inside the sleigh instead of standing on the edge as he was wont to do.

The odd group of five carefully dismounted from the sleigh, the snow crunching underneath their feet as most of them shivered involuntarily. It was cold, very, very cold, the sort of cold that lodges itself in the marrow of your bones and stays there, despite your best efforts. The sort of cold that instantly deprives your extremities of feeling, should they happen to be exposed to the frigid air. Already, a thin layer of powdery ice was forming on the spirits' faces, as their breath instantly crystallized as soon as it left their lungs.

The tallest of the group, a creature that had the appearance of an overgrown rabbit, cursed and shivered. "Crickey, Frostbite, why do ya have ta make it so bloody cold out here? My ears are freezin' clean off!"

The white-haired teen narrowed his aquamarine blue eyes at the rabbit, as he spoke in a disparaging tone. "I'm not the one who decides how cold it should be, Cottontail. If you have a problem with the weather, go sort it out with Mother Nature. I only follow her orders."

The rabbit scoffed. "Since when do ya follow anyone's orders?"

"...Since the person who gives said orders has the power to disintegrate me if I happen to annoy her."

A dull, heavy silence instantly fell over the group, as each of them absorbed this slightly frightening information. In the end, it was the burly Cossack who broke the silence.

"Come. We must begin search."

There were no protests, not even from the rabbit, as the group began their long trek across the Yukon.

* * *

The silence was worse than an outright attack could ever be.

The group of five trudged through the snowy landscape, sending suspicious glances at every fir tree, rock, or frozen creek, their respective weapons at the ready. Twice, the white-haired teen shot blasts of icy magic at a moving shadow, and three times the Sandman's golden whips lashed out at a figure in the corner of his vision. Yet, each time, their attacks were for nothing.

The nerves of the five were stretched to their utmost, each of them tense and ready for an attack. Instead, they got complete silence, which wore them down and exhausted them.

After several hours of this, the rabbit motioned for them to stop.

"We'll never find that sneaky ratbag this way, mates. This place is too big. We gotta split up if we want a chance at nailin' it."

The bearded Cossack frowned. "I am not sure that is good idea, Bunny. We are more vulnerable that way. We will be like sitting goose."

"It's 'sitting duck', North. And I know, but separating is our only chance at catchin' the bugger. We cover more ground faster that way."

"We could use sleigh…"

"We've been over this, North. If we use the sleigh, the bastard will see us looking for it and it'll hide somewhere. We gotta walk."

The Cossack was about to protest again, but a comment from the bird-woman interrupted him. "Bunny's right, North. I don't like it, but he's right."

"...Very well. Bunny, you go south, Tooth goes east, Sandy goes west, and I will go north. Jack, you travel with Sandy."

"What? No! I can take care of myself, North!"

"Maybe, but this spirit targets children, and you are child, Jack. You will be safer with Sandy."

"I'm not a child!"

"Technically, ya are, Frosty. Now shut yer trap and go with Sandy already."

"... _Fine._ "

* * *

They had been walking for what seemed like hours, and Jack was completely fed up. One would think that hunting for a shapeshifting spirit would be more eventful, but no, of course not. Because the spirit simply had to hide away and terrify everyone through sheer anticipation.

The plan itself was simple. Just walk through the forest aimlessly in the general direction that they were assigned, and keep their eyes peeled for their target. If one of them found the spirit, they were supposed to fire a signal so that the others could come and back them up.

Of course, it was simple in theory, but a tad more difficult in reality. Especially when a certain spirit refused to simply show up already.

 _Where is that damned thing?_

The frost child nervously switched his staff from one hand to another as he walked, keeping his ears alert for any suspicious sound. As expected, there was nothing, and as expected, his anxiety spiked even higher.

 _I swear, if it doesn't show up within the next five minutes I'm going to-_

A frantic whisper from the wind interrupted his furious musing, and slowly, a feeling of cold dread spread through his bones.

"...Sandy, something's wrong…"

* * *

The little golden man stopped and looked at the frost child questioningly. Jack had gone utterly still, his head tilted slightly to one side as if he was listening intently. His eyes were lightly glazed, and had turned a milky pale blue.

Suddenly, the teen shook his head, his eyes coming back into focus. "Sandy, I think it's close to us!"

A compass appeared above the Sandman's head, followed by a question mark. _Where?_

"I'm not sure, but I think it's to our lef-"

 _ **Jack!**_

The voice of a young girl echoed through the fir trees, sounding like it came from no specific direction. Yet this voice was obviously recognizable to the teen, for his head snapped up and his eyes glazed over once again, as he turned as still as a stone statue. A feeling of dread building in his chest, Sandy yanked on the winter spirit's sleeve, only to receive no response.

 _ **Jack!**_

Slowly, mechanically, the teen turned his head towards the sound, seemingly unaware of anything but the mysterious voice.

"It can't be...she's gone…"

 _ **Jack! Jack, I'm scared!**_

For the first time in years, the Sandman wished he could use his voice, just so he could yell some sense into the younger Guardian's head. As it was, he could only yank harder on his friend's sleeve, and hope against hope that Jack would see the voice for what it truly was: a cruel trap.

 _ **JACK!**_

As if in a trance, Jack tried to take a step towards the sound, only to be held back by the gentle yet firm grip of Sandy.

 _ **JACK! HELP ME!**_

Pale blue eyes glared at the Guardian of Dreams, almost frightening in their intensity. A low growl rent the air.

"Sandy, let me go."

 _ **JACK! JACK!**_

The Sandman stubbornly shook his head, strengthening his grip on the frost teen's wrist.

"Sandy. I mean it. Let me go."

Another shake of the head.

 _ **JACK!**_

"Dammit, Sandy! Let go of me, already!"

 _ **JACK, PLEASE!**_

"Sandy, I swear, if you don't let go of me this instant, I'll _make_ you do it!"

All that the teen received for his efforts was a deadpan look that practically screamed, _I'd like to see you try_.

 _ **JACK!**_

Blue eyes narrowed, sharp and surprisingly cold. "If you say so."

Without warning, a blast of winter magic hit the Sandman in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

And when he recovered, there was no trace of his companion, except for a trail of frost ferns leading through the trees.

* * *

 **A/N: I have...mixed feelings about this oneshot. I feel like it's rushed, but I can't find a way to fix the damn thing.**

 **Ah well. I'll most likely come back later and rewrite this chapter. In fact, I'll DEFINITELY come back and rewrite this. Mark my words.**

 **Also, I ADORE Owl City. Especially the song "Wolf Bite".**

 **...**

 **Review?**

 **P.S. Also, to the guest who asked if the "nth" in the previous chapter was a typo...no, it wasn't :) That was actually a vague reference to one of my favorite book series of all time, "The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy". "Nth" in this context refers to a quantity that is so huge it's basically impossible to count. It essentially is the nerd/geek equivalent of the word "umpteenth". Hope this helps resolve any confusion you may have had!**


	17. I Know Your Face

**A/N: I...actually wrote something shorter than 1000 words?**

 **Huh. I must be getting old :P**

 **Anyway, this little gem is for Guest reviewer _cereALL,_ who requested a drabble about Jack and the Wind. I'm pretty (scratch that, ENTIRELY) sure this wasn't what they were looking for, but...meh. **

**And if anyone comes to me with complaints along the lines of how much this headcanon of mine sucks, and how I should be burned at the stake, then thrown into a meat-grinder and turned into fresh Authoress-burgers, well, I have this to say to you...**

 **I'm the Authoress. _I do_ _whatever the hell I want._**

 **So deal with it.**

 **Toodles, nerds. (Yes, you are all "nerds" now. This is what you get for reading my garbage stories)**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

* * *

She was old, older than the mountains, older than the rivers, older than the deserts. She had seen everything and anything. She had witnessed humanity at its best, and at its worst. Love, war, pain, life, everything was the same to her.

For she was the wind, after all, and she was old. Oh, so very, very old indeed.

How old was she, exactly? Evidently many centuries, of course, but how many? Ten? Twelve? Twenty?

…

Somehow, it seemed more.

She could, with difficulty, remember wisps of a life before. A life of turmoil, certainly, but a more filling life than that of a simple movement of the air. If she strained her memory, she could conjure faint images of this life: a common, lowly cottage, lit with torches, with animal skins drying by the fire, and an unknown brown-haired, brown-eyed man (Her father? Her brother? Her son?) preparing for battle, his bare torso covered in blue war paint.

She remembered little else, the rest of her memories long eroded by the sands of time. Yet these faint memories were more than enough, for the flighty breeze felt strangely drawn to certain humans. Brown-haired ones especially, with brown eyes, each leading down a chain of birth and rebirth, each one living on in the spirit of their children. The family name changed repeatedly, from warrior-like Celtic names, to stiff and proper English names, to slightly freer American names, but they still originated from a life she barely remembered, and she followed the family line eagerly, all the way down.

And she always, _always_ watched out for those with brown eyes and dark hair.

Legends soon went around, of course. They said that there were some lucky ones, that were guarded fervently by the spirit of the winds, who protected and cherished them and their children. The mothers in this family line never died in childbirth (as was a common occurrence in those times), and occasionally, if they bore a child with brown eyes and matching hair, they and their child would be blessed with long life and peace.

But only if the child was brown-eyed, with mud-colored hair.

Gradually, such silly rumors died out, but she always carefully followed the family line. Once or twice, there were a few close calls when the line threatened to die out entirely, but it picked up again soon enough.

And then, one day, her interest turned to something bigger. One day, a woman in this line bore a child, a boy, one whom the wind instantly adored unconditionally. The only one of the entire line to break past her barriers, and bring feeling back into the cold, cold heart of the unforgiving winter's wind.

That day was the birth of a most extraordinary child, destined for great things. And this child was known as Jackson Overland.

* * *

The moon watched from his place among the stars, as his old friend Wind danced with the newest winter spirit.

The ancient spirit was happy, of course. Wind had come a long way: from the chilly and forbidding Brisa, daughter of a Briton warrior, to the spirit of, well, the wind.

But now she had gone even further. Apart, winter and wind were powerful forces indeed, but together? They were practically _unstoppable_.

Yes, nothing would stand in the way of the child who was to become the next Guardian.

But for now, he would leave the two to their own devices. Brisa did have a good deal to catch up on, after all. It wasn't often that you were reunited with one of your direct descendants.

And so he closed his eyes, and left them to their games.

And down below, Brisa, spirit of the wind, danced and played with her white-haired great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson.

* * *

 **A/N: Is this a weird and illogical head-canon? Yes. Do I care? Well...**

 **Also, I named Wind. Wind has a name now. It's Brisa (Pronuciation: bree-ZA). She's snarky, sassy, and is the best great-great-great-oh-what-a-lot-of-greats grandmother in the history of the Earth. Sue me.**

 **...**

 **...Review?**


	18. Ride On, My Gallant Huntsmen!

**A/N: Hello again, everyone.  
**

 **So, before you dive into this chapter, I want to say a couple of things:**

 **1\. First and most important, let's all have a round of applause for WinterCrystal1009, who has agreed to be my new beta! Yay! (although she hasn't betaread this chapter yet, so...) Any mistakes that still remain in these chapters after betareading are my own :3**

 **2\. Not so good news...starting June 4th, I will be temporarily unable to update for approximately six to eight weeks. Do not panic, I am not abandoning ANY of my stories, but this pause is unavoidable :/**

 **3\. I'm not too happy with this chapter. So yeah. Also, it's not a request, in case you are wondering. And it's set in the seventeenth century (1600s) when fox-hunting was a popular sport in England.  
**

 **4\. The song that goes with this story is called "Black Fox" by Heather Dale. I ask you, no, I ORDER you to listen to that song. Go do it. Now.**

 **Now that that's over...READ ON!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own either RotG. I don't own "Black Fox" either (that one belongs to Heather Dale).**

* * *

 _And up spoke our master huntsman, the master of the chase_  
 _"If only the Devil himself come by, we'd run him such a race!"_  
 _And up there sprung like lightning a fox from out of his hole_  
 _His fur was the color of a starless night, and his eyes like burning coals_

 _And they chased him over the valley, and they chased him over the fields;_  
 _They chased him down to the river bank, but never would he yield_  
 _And he's jumped into the water, and he's swum to the other side_  
 _And he's laughed so loud that the green woods shook_  
 _Then he's turned to the huntsmen and he's cried:_

 _"Ride on, my gallant huntsmen! When must I come again?_  
 _For you should never want for a fox to chase all over the glen_  
 _And when your need is greatest, just call upon my name_  
 _And I will come, and you shall have the best of sport and game!"_

 _And the men looked up in wonder, and the hounds run back to hide_  
 _For the fox, it changed to the Devil himself, where he stood on the other side_  
 _And the men, the hounds, the horses went flying back to town_  
 _And hard on their heels come a little black fox, laughing as he ran_ -"Black Fox", by Heather Dale

* * *

The master huntsman glared irritably at the surrounding countryside, muttering curses under his breath as the field still neglected to give the hunting party the quarry they were looking for.

He simply could not understand it. It was November, the prime of the fox-hunting season. There should be dozens of the blasted things scattered about, yet in the four hours that he had been searching, not one single bushy tail had been seen. It was maddening.

His chestnut steed shifted nervously underneath him, as the master huntsman suddenly exploded in a flood of curses and swearing that would have made a sailor wince. The other hunters flinched as the torrent of verbal abuse fell on their heads.

Finally, face twisted in fury, the master huntsman snapped furiously at his companions. "If only the Devil himself come by, we'd run him such a race!"

In a flash of black, a fox jumped out of its hole, practically right in front of the huntsman's face. It was unlike any fox the huntsman had ever seen, with pitch black fur and blazing yellow eyes. In what looked suspiciously like a cocky smirk, the dog fox (for it was clearly male) flashed its black teeth at the huntsman before turning and trotting off.

The huntsman simply stared for a few moments, watching as the fox gained ground. Only when it was almost fifteen feet away did the fox stop and look back, as if it was waiting for the huntsman. When the huntsman still did not move, the fox barked as if in laughter, its sides shaking.

The huntsman scowled. He would not allow himself to be mocked by a piece of vermin. Still frowning, the huntsman turned to his companions. "Well? Don't just stand there, you fools! After him!"

The hills and the valleys began to ring, as in front of them, a little black fox ran.

* * *

He wasn't sure how long they had been chasing the fox. Hours, certainly.

The master huntsman wiped his brow as he followed the black streak in front of him. Beneath him, he could feel the sides of his horse heaving, the poor beast evidently exhausted.

How could a minuscule fox have more endurance than one of the Kingdom's finest horses?

The huntsman pushed the thought to the back of his head. Now was not the time to focus on such petty things. Now was the time to catch his quarry.

He chased the fox over the valley, he chased it over the fields, he chased it down to the river bank, but it never yielded. His eyes widening, the huntsman watched as the fox prepared to jump into the water.

"Don't let it cross the river!" he ordered his companions. His efforts were in vain, however, for before the words left his lips, the fox had already jumped in and crossed to the other side.

The huntsman opened his mouth to curse his luck, but was interrupted by a savage-sounding laugh from the opposite bank of the river.

His brown eyes widened.

The fox was _laughing._

The huntsman stood still in shock, as the green woods shook with the fox's laughter. He saw his companions tremble, as the fox continued to snicker before turning its luminous eyes on the huntsman.

Then the fox opened its mouth, and _spoke._

Its voice was gruff and raw and shaking with barely-suppressed laughter, as the demon openly mocked the huntsmen. " _Ride on, my gallant huntsmen! When must I come again? For you should never want for a fox to chase all over the glen! And when your need is greatest, just call upon my name, and I will come, and you shall have the best of sport and game!"_

The huntsmen shared a look, all agreeing that there was only one course of action that they could take.

They bolted.

The men, the hounds, and the horses went flying back to town, and on their heels came a little black fox, laughing as he ran.

" _Ride on, my gallant huntsmen! When must I come again? For you should never want for a fox to chase all over the glen!"_

* * *

Pitch Black chuckled as he watched the gormless huntsmen flee from his harmless Nightmare. That would teach those brutes to hunt innocent creatures.

Even though Pitch Black didn't really care about anything or anyone, he felt that such barbaric customs were deeply unfair to the vulpine creatures. They were like him, he mused, as he glanced back at the veritable army of foxes behind him. Outcasts, vermin, unwanted. Although they were important to the world as a whole (much like the fear he brought), they were still hunted down and chased by arrogant swine, same as he was chased by the Guardians.

Well, hopefully this batch would no longer be bothered by the huntsmen.

"I doubt they will be bothering you again, little ones." he cooed in an almost fatherly manner, a vicious smirk on his face. They grinned at him in thanks, before slinking away into the undergrowth.

Pitch watched them leave, the smirk never quite leaving his face. Only when the final bushy-tailed animal was gone did the Boogeyman slip quietly into the shadow of a nearby birch. As the shadows enveloped him, he found himself muttering softly.

" _Run on, my gallant Guardians! When must I come again? For you should never want for a fox to chase all over the glen!"_

* * *

 **A/N: Yeah...not too happy with this. But meh. At least you get some animal-rights-activist!Pitch.  
**

 **...Review?**


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